Slaves to the Capitol
by Soundhawk
Summary: "On the hundredth anniversary of the Dark Days Rebellion and the twenty fifth anniversary of the Nightlock Rebellion, to remind the Districts that they are only slaves to the Capitol, each tribute will have to look after a Capitol child, if this child dies in the arena then so does the tribute."
1. A Capitol Announcement

**Announcement**

The President reached the podium, his face a mask of excitement. Another Hunger Games, he didn't think he would see another quell, not after the problems the 3rd Quell caused. But he'd done it, survived and killed the traitorous duo that rallied the Districts, oh so well. Now another Quell. He reached the podium to a mass of applause coming from all angles. He moved a lock of white hair from his face and lifted one foot slightly. He tried not to sigh; he was getting too old for this job. Shaking his head, he watched as an Avox started to reach him, her ginger hair gleaming in the light.

A slight smile came to his lips as he was given the golden envelope with the 100 marked in big on it. All his thoughts about how bad the games were going to be disappeared. He opened the envelope and took out the card, rimmed with silver and gold. He tried not to chuckle, what a way to keep both the Districts and the Capitol under his control.

"Ladies and Gentlemen" Snow announced, "On the hundredth anniversary of the Dark Days Rebellion and the twenty fifth anniversary of the Nightlock Rebellion, to remind the Districts that they are only slaves to the Capitol, each tribute will have to look after a Capitol child, if this child dies in the arena then so does the tribute."

Silence stunned the audience and snow smiled, _here's to all the Capitol rebels and the Districts. Put that in your pipe and smoke it. _A round of applause broke out that quickly increased as more people got excited, more people got hyped up. This was going to be one hell of a game.

* * *

**Thanks for all the tributes I have received.**


	2. List of Participating Tributes

**Tribute List**

**District 1 (Luxury Items)**

**Girl: **Anastasia Maya Phoenix, 17

~Genevieve

**Boy: **Zane Asher, 17

~Valentine

**District 2 (Masonry and Peacekeepers)**

**Girl:** Lissa Dragomir, 18

~Sabrina

**Boy:** Vitus "Vit" Cassian, 16

~Adamantine

**District 3 (Electronics)**

**Girl:** Brielle Raynali, 15

~Phosphorus

**Boy: **Darson Markson, 17

~Baron

**District 4 (Fishing)**

**Girl:** Alexandria Raves, 17

~Nero

**Boy: **Jared Summers, 18

~Briar

**District 5 (Power)**

**Girl:** Morganya Narda Titan, 12

~ Titania

**Boy: **Octavian Claudius Amorous, 14

~Lysander

**District 6 (Transportation)**

**Girl:** Alia Louise Bennet, 14

~ Ophelia

**Boy:** Dust Remendado Lectart, 17

~Aeron

**District 7 (Lumber)**

**Girl:** Jasmine Paylin, 17

~Tybalt

**Boy: **Chet Stanton, 15

~Caligula

**District 8 (Textiles)**

**Girl: **Anomaly Omen, 17

~Quill

**Boy: **Luke Kripac, 12

~Belle

**District 9 (Grain)**

**Girl: **Jade Gilmore, 16

~Sterling

**Boy: **Forrow Mathers, 12

~Aurora

**District 10 (Livestock)**

**Girl: **Inna Jo Mae, 17

~Maximus

**Boy: **Merkie Sakid, 15

~Artemis

**District 11 (Agriculture)**

Girl: Fig Cress, 14

~Camilla

**Boy: **Milo Anthony Ferrell, 13

~Loki

**District 12 (Coal Mining)**

**Girl: **Elly Potter, 14

~Elizabeth

**Boy: **Kynn Lowell, 14

~Julius

All of the Capitol children are the same age as the tribute they are with.


	3. District 1: Pride and Craziness

**Right everybody, this is the first reaping. I will be going through each District one by one. Please review and enjoy! Thanks to Larka Rinna Luna and EmmaRizcool for these brilliant tributes!  
**

**~Soundhawk**

* * *

**Anastasia Maya Phoenix, 17 years old.**

Anastasia was already out of bed, staring across the sky from the balcony. The beautiful balcony that was painted pure white with small flowers in pots lying around and vines curling around the railings. She picked one of the dainty blue and sniffed it gently. The flower was only small, like she was, but magnificent. This was one of her more relaxed moods, the one in which people could talk to her and she wouldn't start blabbering on about random things or dancing like an idiot.

The balcony wasn't that far off the floor and climbing up the rails, Anastasia jumped into the bushes below. She climbed out, her curly brown hair a tangle. Laughing and brushing herself off, she could just hear the voice of her brother Roman, working out from the back garden. Maybe she should go and see him. The sun shone down on the magical District as she climbed over the fence and landed in yet another set of bushes.

District 1 was by far the best looking district. They still had some structures from beyond the Dark Days and many more castles and hotels and gardens had been erected since then. "Roman!" Anastasia called out to her brother, shaking the dew off herself.

"Ana, I'm through here," he replied, panting from his training. She walked through their garden and past the apple tree to see him standing, shirt open, attacking a mannequin with a knife.

"Don't call me Ana," she said, lacing her fingers together and putting them behind her head. His eyes twinkled with amusement as he stabbed the mannequin. She watched him for a while, sweat pouring off his body. His green eyes, like hers, took on this look of concentration as he 'worked.'

She faintly heard the creaking of the conservatory door open and she could hear the sound of footsteps treading lightly. Roman continued on, not fazed by the sounds. Taking a glance sideways, Anastasia could see her mother, her wrinkle lines showing, stood quietly. She ignored Anastasia. Finally, she asked, "Roman, are you volunteering this year, it'll be your last?" her mother spoke softly, almost musically.

He nodded, breathed out, and went back to severing a dummies arm off. "Yeah, if I get picked. You know how hard it is to get in when you volunteer, there's loads wanting to be the one. Although, I don't think any of the girls will be keen to volunteer this year," he said between pants.

Anastasia could understand that, she'd seen how the girl from 1 had gone last year. A beast had run rampant and the girl had literally been bitten in half. Anastasia didn't know her personally but it had made her sick to the stomach. She didn't want to be in the Games, but Roman had talked her into letting him practice with her so she that she had some skill.

"Anastasia," her mother said, noticing her for the first time, "Can you go down to the shops and get the twins that package I ordered?"

Her mother went inside, not even waiting for the answer. It wasn't really a question, more of an order. Rolling her eyes and then pulling a face at Roman, she went back the way she came, pulling her purse out of a small red and white bag. She couldn't help it and so she did a cartwheel to the fence and then climbed it with ease, her size making her nimble. Hopping over to the other side, she walked along the clean streets, taking in a lungful of air. Overall, district 1 was a nice place to be.

Hardly anyone was up, most staying in bed or lounging around. No one worried or got scared about the upcoming reaping. But that's how everyone was around here and Anastasia felt she had to do the same. If she was reaped, she was reaped; there was nothing anyone could do about it. Well, apart from someone volunteering, this normally happened but there would probably be no female volunteer this year, not with the other girl's death. Not with that girl being ripped apart. There wasn't much that frightened or shocked this District but that was one of them.

Relaxing and enjoying the slight breeze, Anastasia entered the little quaint post office. She liked it here, the old woman that owned the shop, Beatrice, was nice and often let her have sweets for free. Not many people liked Anastasia, preferring to stay away from the crazy teen that did weird things, but Beatrice didn't seem to mind. "Parcel delivery," Anastasia said, twitching her hands slightly.

Handing it over, Beatrice accepted the money. Behind her the bell of the door ran and a boy her same age stepped in, ruffling his oddly coloured white hair. Pushing Anastasia lightly out the way, he handed over a ticket.

"Excuse me! I'm here!" Anastasia said, having to reach to put a firm hand on the boy's shoulder. He turned, a cocky smile playing across his face. His green eyes met her's and he lifted an arched eyebrow.

"Well, mine is important so you'll have to wait," he said back, his white teeth blinding her. Then his eyes narrowed, "You're the girl that picked up that dead squirrel, right?"

His face screwed up as she smiled and said simply, "I need that squirrel for a ritual to communicate with the dead but really, it's none of your business," she replied. He looked at her, not quite sure whether she was telling the truth or not. It was only partially true but taking a glance at his face, she burst into fits off laughter.

Nodding and looking at her like she was a lunatic, he quickly grabbed his parcel and left, leaving her in the tiny shop in fits of happy tears.

* * *

**Zane Asher, 17 years old. **

Zane left the post office, shaking his head. What an absolute weirdo. Zane had sometimes watched Anastasia from afar during the school lunch when they didn't play football on the field. He had no real interest in her but there was sometime unusual about her. Something he couldn't put his finger on. Well, that was apart from that she was friends with Penelope, a 14 year old that didn't speak and gave off a creepy feeling.

"Hey, hey! Zane, nice weather we're having," Gary called from the other side of the street. Max and Andy also stood near him, throwing a ball between the two of them. Nodding, Zane crossed the old looking street. Occasionally carts drawn by horses would come down here and they would all marvel at the different colours and breeds.

"Yeah, I know right. Nice to see summer is finally kicking in, huh?" he said, tucking the package under his arm. Max threw the ball to him and he headed it, sending it flying.

"Uh-huh, actually I wondered whether you could do me a favour," Gary said, fidgeting with his long blonde hair. Andy's lips turned into a smirk as he looked to Gary.

Zane leaned against a dark green post, "Depends, if I always did things for free I'd be a poor man." Gary gave him a scowl as Max took a poster out his bag and began to unroll it.

The three boys looked over his shoulder and stared down at the glossy page, which read across it: THE FOURTH QUARTER QUELL!

A couple of pictures of tributes dying and a victor in the middle were pasted onto the poster. Zane grinned, that would be him in less than a months' time. Hopefully, anyway. His other friends turned to him with their eyebrows raised. "Are you still going to do this?" asked Max.

He nodded; _of course_ he was still going to do this. A Quell was the perfect time to volunteer. And besides, it would hopefully get his mother back. Not that he'd discussed that with any of his friends. That wasn't cool. He'd just told them that his mother had to do some work at the Capitol, never mind that she chose to stay there as a permanent resident. But Zane missed her, oh so much. And currently, this was the only way he could think of getting her back.

"Yeah, it sounds awesome. Besides I might end up with a hot Capitol girl and you never know where that may end up," he grinned, his eyes twinkling. Andy pushed him slightly, laughing.

"You are a bad person, you know that Zane?" said Gary, trying to keep his tone strict but failing and he ended up laughing. Zane shrugged, why not try it on if he was going to come out a victor.

"Have you seen any of the Capitol children yet?" he asked, flexing his arms and moving the package, realising that it was there. They all shook their heads. "Right, well, I really should get going. So, I'll see you at the reaping," he called to them, walking home.

Getting home, he opened up the package. Several pill bottles were inside and Zane read the label. Some new brand they were trying on his mentally unstable brother that won the Games only two years ago. He had to kill his District partner as they were the only ones left. It didn't help that he'd fallen in love with her. But neither of them had wanted to die and so they had fought to the death, Hunter stabbing her in the heart.

"Hunter? Hunt, you there?" Zane shouted, his voice echoing through the house. He heard a slight scrabbling voice and his brother came in, crawling across the floor and singing. Opening the bottle, Zane read the label. Two pills every four hours.

"_Hickory, dickory, dock. The mouse ran up the clock_," his brother sung, swaying slightly. Shaking his head, he popped two tablets out the packet.

"Father, are you home?" Zane yelled through the slightly open door. Silence except for this brother's singing. Sighing he looked back to his partially insane brother, a waste of space, but at the same time lovable if you got past all of that.

"Right Hunter, you need to take your tablets," Zane said, holding them out. Hunter crawled back but continued to sing the next line of the song.

Taking a step forward, Zane held his hand out and tried to coax him over to no avail; Hunter stood away, looking at him as he sung and sung. "I know, I know. _The clock struck one, the mouse ran down, Hickory, dickory, dock._ Look, you need to take these. I don't want to have to pin you down again," Zane said, exasperated. Hunter hissed like a vampire but otherwise did nothing. Where was his father when he needed him? Normally he would be drinking, constantly thinking about the Games and his wife. Because he was just another victor in the stream of District 1 winners.

Eventually, he got his brother settled and managed to get him to take the tablets, constantly thinking about his mother and how she left. His father blamed his insane brother for her leaving but Zane suspected that it was his father that sent her over the edge so she had to move. Not that he'd admit that himself, District 1 victors were too proud.

Finally he had a chance to get ready for the reaping, humming the same song as his brother.

* * *

**Anastasia Maya Phoenix, 17 years old.**

Waiting for the reaping to start was never fun. It was pure boredom watching the mayor on the stage chatting with the escort. Penelope slipped in by her side for a few moments but she didn't speak. Penelope never spoke. She stayed quiet but Anastasia didn't mind too much. In fact, she preferred it this way. Anastasia had known her for 4 years now and only twice had she ever heard Penelope speak.

Anastasia nodded and pulled a face in which Penelope silently smiled at. Something pressed between her fingers and looking down it was a pawn from a chess board. Lifting it up for closer inspection, Anastasia saw that it was a black solid glass pawn. It was perfect, everything that Anastasia thought about the world. It symbolised how she lived and how she would die along with the Capitol's oppression on the Districts.

Finally, when the mayor spoke, silence ascended around the plaza and he introduced the escort, Eden who supported a light pink hairdo. "Welcome! District 1, I thank you for having the pleasure of being here today," she exclaimed as clapping filled the area. Anastasia rolled her eyes as she watched Penelope disappear between the crowds.

"As this year is the Quarter Quell I would like you to give a hand for our Capitol children, Genevieve and Valentine," she said, motioning to them. Anastasia clapped along, not really that interested. Genevieve was looking around like she was in a daydream, not quite understanding what was going on. However Valentine stood with a smirk, her raven black hair streaked with red was pulled back in a ponytail that seemed to make her look threatening.

"Right then, let's get started. Females first!" Eden announced, her eyes bright. For the first time, all the females were holding their breath.

"Anastasia Maya Phoenix!"

Anastasia stopped, her heart thudding in the chest. Then she smiled, a manic smile that would hopefully unnerve all the other tributes. Her eyes flickered but she calmly walked towards the stage and stood there. A small laugh escaped her but she stopped it. Genevieve walked forward and stood next to Anastasia. She cocked her head to the side but said nothing, her straw coloured hair shining in the sunlight. Anastasia was glad that she had been given Genevieve and not Valentine; she would be easier to work with. "Any volunteers?"

None. None this year.

"Onto the males!"

* * *

**Zane Asher, 17 years old.**

Zane watched as Anastasia walked up to the stage. He frowned, that wasn't brilliant. He saw a row of victors behind them and he saw his Father standing proudly as Hunter, a little way along, swayed but otherwise stayed silent.

Eden dipped her hand into the reaping bowl and slowly pulled out a name. It didn't matter whose name was on that slip, he would be up there in a flash. He had to do this, to get his mother to come home and of course, get a little female attention.

"Midnight Falls!" Eden screamed as a 15 year old came to the front of the stage. He had lanky frame and large glasses positioned on his nose. Zane got ready to run, seeing males around him do this as well. "Any volunteers?"

Zane rushed to the front, the wind hitting him as he zoomed past some of the others. He elbowed one of the other kids and reached the stage in what seemed record time. Zane wasn't big like other tributes, he was tall and only had a few muscles and because of this, he was super speedy. Reaching the stage, Eden asked for his name and he gave it clearly. Valentine stood next to him, searching him up and down. He couldn't help but feel that he was a piece of meat under her inspection.

"You'll do," she murmured in his ear, her voice silky and seductive. Zane glanced to his left to see her smirking. For a few seconds his eyes lingered around her breasts but he quickly moved them and looked out over the crowd.

"These are your tributes for the 100th Hunger Games," she announced, stepping between him and Anastasia. A huge applause went up and with that, Zane's hopes that his mother had seen this and that she wanted to come home.


	4. District 2: Arrogance Above All

**A/N: First and foremost, thanks to all of the reviews I got. I didn't expect so many so quickly. Also a few have asked some question which I will now answer.**

**I will not be doing any chapters in the Capitol Children's POV unless I need to. ****Also the Capitol children are the same age as the tribute they get put with. It's much easier this way.**

**Thanks to Hime-koi and Ladyyuuki16 for these brilliant tributes. Thanks for all the reviews and if you could send in more that would be great.**

**~Soundhawk**

* * *

**Vitus "Vit" Cassian, 16 years old. **

Vitus's fist closed around the boy's neck. He smirked, his thin lips curling upwards. Around him, he could hear jeering and cruel laughter. The boy shook, his small body becoming smaller. He attempted to kick out but in an easily swipe, Vitus swatted it away. "Go on Vit, punch his head in," his friend, Hadrien Otho, yelled.

Vitus turned to him and watched as the teen eyed up the boy that was cowering in Vitus's fist. The crowd grew wild and he heard his friend give the command. With a clenched fist, his other hand collided with the boy's face. He screeched, his head lolling back.

Vitus dropped the boy and he crumpled to the floor. Wiping his hands, he pretended to wipe the dust from his shirt. The crowd clapped and hollered as the boy tried to get up. He slumped back down and Vitus rolled his eyes. "Never mess with me again, understand?" he asked, his voice low but suave.

The boy slowly looked up and between gasps, he nodded. Smirking again, Vitus made his way towards Hadrien. He clapped Vitus on his back as the crowd started to disperse. Most teenagers loved to see others being beat up, that's what it was like in District 2. You were either predator or prey and luckily for him, Vitus was the top predator. Apex predator.

"So, our volunteer for this year," Hadrien said, grinning at Vitus.

Vitus nodded and leaned against an ugly brick wall. Several girls went past and he winked. Vitus wasn't heavily muscled; his body was lean and tall. However he took pride in it. "Of course," he replied in his deep voice.

"A Quell as well, man. You're going to rock it and besides I've heard a rumour going around," Hadrien said, flexing his arms. He looked left and right before smirking. "I've heard that people are so scared of you that no one else is volunteering this year!"

Vitus raised an eyebrow, "You serious, I have that sort of power?"

"That's what I've heard. Well, you scared all the male competition. The females are all still open to volunteering. As far as power goes, I think so."

Vitus smiled. Taking a glance around the grubby District, the two set off down the narrow streets, Vitus taking in the loud and smoky air. Today was the Reaping, the time every District 2 person loved. Vitus had been training for years and now he felt more confident than he'd ever been. They turned a corner and strode down a street that was filled with the sound of pick axes striking stone. Masonry. If you didn't become a victor that is where you ended up.

Finally the two ended up in front of Vitus's house he shared with both his parents. "Can you go in? Pick up my spears and stuff?" Vitus asked, warily staring at the house.

"Why? Aren't you coming in?" Hadrien asked, taking the keys off Vitus. He gave him a puzzled look.

"Nah, I'm trying to stay away from my parents, I don't want to get attached to them just before I volunteer. Otherwise it'll be emotional and I won't look good," Vitus responded and Hadrien nodded before heading inside, leaving Vitus to stare around. After a while Hadrien came back out, hoisting spears on his shoulders.

The two of them took a stroll down to the Training Centre. Training for the Games might have been illegal but the Capitol never did anything about it and so it carried on. Soon they arrived at the stone building, coloured crudely in a red colour. Going in the two of the changed clothes before heading into one of the practice rooms. A crowd was already there watching a teenage girl spar with an older boy. She roughly held a rapier, twirling it around as she swaggered towards her victim.

Hadrien arched an eyebrow as Vitus narrowed his eyes. Within ten seconds, she had the boy kneeling on the ground begging for mercy. A cheer went up around them and Vitus took a couple of steps forward, the crowd quickly clearing to make room for him. It looked like Hadrien was right. He did have power.

The boy below him looked from the girl to Vitus before scampering off. She looked at him, her icy blue eyes boring into him. He puffed himself up as she twirled the rapier in her hands. "Well, if it isn't the little volunteer," she said, amusement in her tone.

Vitus narrowed his eyes further, trying to sense whether she was teasing him. No one teased him. No one. "And you are?" he asked carefully.

Running her hand along her lips she finally breathed, "Lissa Dragomir and you must be little Vit."

His nostrils flared as Hadrien slipped a spear slowly into his hands. He twirled it in his hands gently, trying to be graceful. Vitus wasn't one for being graceful. Her cat like figure moved gracefully though, each move like a ballerina. Only one that was much more deadly. "Never call me 'little Vit'," he growled, aiming the spear.

"Or what?" she asked and Vitus threw the spear. She performed a forward roll, dodging the spear nimbly. However the spear had been close, nearly biting into her soft but pale flesh. Without a second thought, she ran at him, the rapier outstretched. He dodged and swung out his leg. She tripped, falling hard. Spitting to the side, he put a foot on her back and forced her down.

* * *

**Lissa Dragomir, 18 years old.**

Lissa tried to laugh but a well-placed foot stopped her. She wasn't scared of Vitus, the little 16 year old wannabe victor. She had plenty of tricks up her sleeves. "Or that," he spat, his dark brown eyes burning with hatred.

"And here's me thinking that we were getting on so well," she said with mock sweetness. He growled and she gave out a small chuckle. Exhaling, she took a moment and then put her hands behind her back, grabbing his leg and hauling him over to the side. He fell, bawling and she heard him land by her side with a _thump._ Scrabbling to her feet, she fixed him a look of disapproval. Slowly, he got back to his feet. "You should always keep your guard up," she said mockingly, licking her bottom lip.

Smiling, she then went over to pick her rapier up and she slotted it back into its sheath. Giving Vitus a mock salute, she walked out of the room to a crowd of faces. The facial expressions ranged from shock to anger to admiration. But she took it how it came.

Lissa knew she was a bitch and that not many people liked her. But frankly, she couldn't care less. Changing clothes into something more comfortable, she walked back outside, enjoying the sun that was starting to come through the clouds. Walking down one of the cobbled streets that signified the older part of the District, she felt another presence by the side of her. Without even looking at the person next to her, it spoke "I've just heard what happened."

"Ooh, news travels fast, Lily," Lissa intoned, not even bothering to roll her eyes.

"You shouldn't mess with Vitus. You've heard what people say," Lily said, her eyebrows creasing into a worried look.

Lissa rolled her eyes this time, "Like I care. He's only a little boy begging for some attention." The two walked in silence, passing a group of kids which were already discussing what had happened. As Lissa passed, they stared then broke out into a chorus of whispers. Lissa smirked and the two of them settled down in the small grassland area that was called a park despite being tiny and having exactly one tree.

Another boy with blonde hair took a seat next to them. It was surprising really; no one in District 2 had blonde hair. "Hey Sam," Lily said, blushing.

Sam nodded to the two of them before saying, "Either of you planning to volunteer this year?"

Lily shook her head but Lissa's mouth curled into a smile. "I might," she said and the two turned to her. She shrugged, "Why not. I mean it's a quell and it'll be fun."

Sam nodded thoughtfully as Lily gave her a happy but worried smile. Taking a look at the time, Lissa realised that if she wanted to volunteer, she better get home to get ready.

Getting home, she fell onto the plush sofa and stared across at her siblings playing table tennis on the dining room table. Sirius was obviously the better player but he was being clumsy so that her little sister Katie could win. He faked a gasp of sadness as the ball went passed him and Katie called in delight. "I'm going to get ready for the reaping," Lissa said after watching them for a bit.

"Good, it's about time. We're already ready," Sirius said, hitting the ping pong ball softly. Lissa charged up the stairs and carefully ran the shower. The soft water hit against her body as she got in, first slowly taking off her clothes. Sinking into the bathtub, she smiled.

After a long soak she finally picked something out to wear.

The Hunger Games, _here I come!_

* * *

**Vitus "Vit" Cassian, 16 years old.**

Vitus stood among the squashed in crowds at the reaping. His short hair dark brown hair had been gelled back and he wore a smart suit, the only one he owned. Taking a glance around he saw the two Capitol children being led on the stage. The male looked brutish, muscled shoulders that did not look right with his maroon coloured hair. The girl had a mysterious air to her along with thick purple eyeliner and hair to boot. Both were being led on stage by General Becquerel, the escort that acted like an army veteran. Smirking, Vitus watched as he yelled some commands to the two kids and they both shouted back with a 'yes sir.'

Finally, the plaza grew quiet as the Mayor introduced them to another reaping. Vitus heard a wave of excitement buzz around the plaza and looking at Hadrien, the two nodded. Then General Becquerel came forward, his head raised as his tight jaw clicked into place. "Right, District 2. Let's get down to business!" he yelled, a shout to match his enthusiasm.

"And the male is Status Jones!" he shouted. A boy about the same age came towards the front, his walk casual. Most turned to Vitus at this point and Status's eyes also seemed to be scanning around. _I've got this is the bag, _he thought.

"Any volunteers?" he bawled, Becquerel's beady eyes looking around. Smirking casually, Vitus stepped out of line and swaggered towards the stage. Proud, confident, maybe even to the point of arrogance. Once Vitus told his name a cry went up, and he provoked them further, getting the crowds to go wild. And they did. Fists were raised in the air as the children yelled and called, a barbaric display of power. Once they had calmed down General Becquerel yelled, as he seemed to have no voice below a shout, "You, with Adamantine!"

The brutish boy stood next to him, his thick muscles tattooed with black dragons. It has hard to believe that this boy was only 16 years old.

"Females!"

* * *

**Lissa Dragomir, 18 years old.**

Lissa hadn't joined in with the little display of love for the male tribute. She had no love for him and would sooner see him suffer. Looking across at Sam, the two nodded to each other. This would be her moment now. So, she would be stuck with the mysterious girl. Better than being with the idiot. Adamantine looked like one of low intelligence, preferring power over wisdom. That was always people's downfalls.

And then, in his 100 decibel voice, General Becquerel screamed the girl's name. "Alexis Stacey!"

A small girl the age of 12 started to hobble to the front, her left leg encased in a cast. Lissa didn't feel much sympathy but it would look much better if she were to volunteer for her anyway. Eyes narrowed, she waited for the scream. "Any volunteers?"

Like a cheetah springing into action, she ran. She ran in huge strides, passing the girls around her. Panting heavily, she snatched the hair of the girl in front of her and threw her onto the floor. She jumped, dodging the girl under her and landed in a roll on the stage. Turning majestically, she smiled outwardly and brushed herself down. Alexis had already left, hobbling towards her parent. Weak.

The other girl came to stand next to her and Lissa could see the dark purple lipstick that she had pasted around her face. "You are, _miss_?" Becquerel asked, his voice hard.

"Lissa Dragomir!" she replied haughtily and the girl looked at her.

"And that concludes the District 2 reapings!" General Becquerel screamed, waving everyone away. She turned to Lissa, "This here is Sabrina." Then he walked off, leaving the two of them to talk together and hopefully form a plan.


	5. District 3: The Quiet Ones

**Seriously guys, thank you so much for all your reviews. They really mean loads to me, I mean, I didn't expect to get so many so quickly. And I got the reaction I wanted from District 2 so that's great. Arrogant tributes are the best to write about.**

**Here's District 3, and thanks to leavesinlight and FireflyLlama for these really cool tributes. Please, reviews would be most appreciated.  
**

**~Soundhawk**

* * *

**Darson Markson, 17 years old. **

Darson slowly opened his dark brown eyes and stared down for a few moments at the little ball that was cuddled against his torso. He didn't complain as the body snuggled closer, trying to get the warmth off him. A small smile formed around his mouth as he gazed down sadly at his little sister. He let out a small sigh, trying to think of anything that was good about today. Nothing came to mind as nothing was good about today. Absolutely nothing.

He gently repositioned himself and the little ball of warmth protested in its squeaky voice. "Shush, go back to sleep, Mara," he said quietly, stroking her soft brown hair. She looked up at him through sleepy eyes.

"Brother, love you," she squeaked and he nodded. Watching her cuddle up against him, he pulled the blankets around her small frail body.

"Yeah," he murmured, "I love you more."

She frowned comically and said stubbornly, "No. I love you more." They laid in silence for a while and Darson heard the sound of the door being shut and locked from downstairs. It looked like his parents had left for work. His father worked up at the design centre, creating new inventions for the Capitol. His mother worked up in one of the institutes for the 'emotionally unstable.' Most just called it the Asylum though. After a while his sister asked, "Why do you have silver hair?"

He suppressed a sigh and said, "We've been over this. I just do, I've had hair like this since I was little. Smaller than you, in fact." He poked in the belly gently and she giggled. He was always gentle with his sister. She meant the world to him.

"I need to go," he said and started to inch out the bed. She squealed in protest, trying to keep the warmth he radiated. He stretched, pulled the blankets over her more and planted a small kiss on top of her head. "Go back to sleep or if you want to get up, be careful, don't touch anything you're not allowed to, okay?"

She mumbled a 'yes' before her eyes drifted close. Grabbing some clothes from the side, he changed, finding something that was comfortable. The house felt stuffy and he groaned slightly, he hated this day. The reaping brought him down. He had considered spending the day at home and going out for the reaping but he decided that getting out would do him good.

The streets were old, cobbled and ancient. Darson gathered that this was one of the oldest Districts. Not that he'd seen any of the others before. A few children were out, muttering in hoarse whispers. A few watched him carefully, scared of him. He never threatened anyone but he assumed that people didn't like him because he stayed quiet and didn't exactly look like a District 3 citizen.

He thought of visiting Niada, his one and only friend and maybe see her before the reaping. She was at the shop where she worked. As he entered, she smiled broadly and he sat on the counter. No one was came here today, not before the reaping. "Hey Darson, aren't you working?" she asked, rubbing a hand over her ashen skin.

He shook his head and scanned over the items sold in the shop. Mostly meat and vegetables with very few luxury items. He spotted a can of golden syrup in the corner and he immediately licked his lips. He never tried it but people said it was like ambrosia. A gift from the gods. But from here it taunted him.

Niada continued to talk as Darson silently soaked up the information. She didn't mind it. When they were younger and had just met, Niada had been annoyed because he didn't look like he was listening as he didn't respond. She'd angrily quizzed him afterwards about what she'd said and he'd got the answers all correct. She then had started to trust him. And now they were the best of friends. Nothing more but nothing less.

She winked at him and produced a little silvery packet. "What's that?" he asked finally and she unwrapped it carefully. Squares of brown were showing from the packet as Niada shook her hands and said 'ta-da.'

He frowned and she exclaimed, "It's called chocolate, try some, it's really nice." He took one and slipped it straight into his mouth. The soft, silky piece rolled around in his mouth as it filled with flavours and glorious tastes. After enjoying the piece, he finally swallowed it. She smiled and wrapped the little package back up before pushing it into his palm.

"Keep it for your sister," she said, smiling up at him. He nodded in thanks as she continued to talk on about her day and what she was thinking. A girl entered the shop, some money glittering in her hands. She was small but had a bit of muscle so she looked a bit athletic. Her long blonde hair fell down to her waist but it framed her round face with her little elfish features quite well.

"Have you got any bread?" she asked, and Niada directed her to a different counter. While Niada smiled happily at the customer, Darson hoped off the counter and moved out the way as she paid.

"How are your brothers?" Niada asked. The girl smiled and handed over some money.

"They aren't bad; Caine has got promoted at his workplace while Shay is hoping to propose to Sara soon. You never know, we might have a wedding on our hands," she said, flicking part of her hair back. Darson watched her closely. As Niada turned around to get a bag, the girl's eyes fixed on Darson and she gave out a slight grin.

Putting the loaf in the bag, Niada handed it over. "Come again soon, Brielle!" she said as the girl left. Storing the money in the counter, Niada smiled and leaned slightly against Darson.

* * *

**Brielle Raynali, 15 years old. **

Brielle wandered home, taking in the crisp air. A small smile flickered across her lips as she spotted her house a little way along. She lived with her two older brothers, both in their early twenties. Pushing the wooden door open, she headed inside, humming under her breath. One of her brothers, Caine, sat staring at the propaganda showing on the TV. He perked up at the sound of Brielle coming in. "You okay, sis?"

"Yeah, fine," she responded, taking off her boots and shoving them in the corner. She put down the bag at Caine's feet before starting up the stairs.

"I wouldn't go up there if I were you," Caine said, getting up and slouching against the doorway. He ran a hand through his cropped blonde hair and grinned slightly.

"Why not?" she asked.

"Because Shay and his girlfriend are up there…having a bit of… adult fun time, if you catch my drift," he said before laughing lightly at her disgusted expression. He patted on the shoulders and retrieved the bag.

She followed him into the small kitchen. "Ew, couldn't they have waited for after the Reaping? It's hardly the time, is it?" she said and Caine gave him a wide smile. He stood; his lanky body most unlike hers as he unpacked the bread and stored it away.

"Let them have their fun, besides, it stops our brother being so grumpy, even if it's only for a while," he answered, "Anyway, they have nowhere else to do it, we do all share one house."

Brielle felt that feeling come over her, that feeling that she was just being a burden. She wasn't helping them; she was just an extra mouth to feed. As she was younger than them she always found that she couldn't do anything. Ever since her parents died she had relied on her brothers for support, not being able to do anything for them in return. Another thing was that she was a very solitary girl, preferring her own company and she knew this wasn't great.

Caine seemed to be able to read her thoughts and said softly, "I…we worry about you."

She looked up at him, trying not to meet his pale eyes. He bent down so that he was her height. Brushing a piece of hair out of her face he murmured, "Both of us worry about you, I'm not just saying that, we really do. Not just for the reaping but in general, you know you need to get out more and enjoy life."

She looked away, becoming suddenly interested at the socks on her feet. "It's not because we want you out of here, we don't, and you're our little sister and we love you. However, it breaks my heart that you have no friends, you need to get out and about, meet new people. And don't feel like you don't do anything, okay? You mean so much to us," he continued on and he wrapped his arms around her neck.

Pulling her in, she snugged her head into his shoulders. "I'm scared," she whispered and he breathed out carefully.

"Shush, don't cry," he said as tears glistened in the corners of her clouded blue eyes. "Come on. Do you want me to make you a sandwich now, so you're not hungry at the Reaping?"

She nodded slightly and he let go, a sad smile played across his face. He quickly made a sandwich and the two of them sat, watching the never ending steam of propaganda which had got worse since the Nightlock Rebellion. And then it came on the screen. Two tributes from 12 with their mentor, Haymitch Abernathy.

The two were taken on the stage with Peacekeepers on either side, a sword was produced and the male was pushed down onto the chopping block. His face glittered from sweat and the girl was moaning, trying to run. However, the Peacekeepers held her down, forcing her eyes open. Among the crowds was Haymitch, his bottle of liquor taken away as he stood motionlessly, watching the sword come down. The girl cried out, tears streaming freely out of her eyes, "Peeta!"

The TV switched off and Caine's eyes drew dark as his nostrils flared ever so slightly, something that most people would have missed. "Real heroes," he mumbled under his breath as he checked the time. Finally he turned to Brielle, the clouded, dark expression clearing from his face.

"You need to get ready, it's nearly time," he said, biting into his bottom lip, something he never did unless he was nervous.

"What about Shay?" she asked and he chuckled.

"Leave him to me," Caine said, smiling and taking the stairs in twos. Brielle smiled as she followed him. However inside she was thinking about what she had just seen. When you got to the age of 18, the last year at school, you had to watch that clip all the way through, like you had to watch the Hunger Games. She shook her head and heard an outburst from a peeved Shay.

"Get out of the room! Now!" he screamed at Caine who was in fits of laughter. She could hear a slight chuckle from Shay's girlfriend, Sara who was always extremely kind and cheerful. Brielle couldn't help but like here.

Brielle grabbed her Reaping clothes and shut the door of the bathroom as she heard Shay break into another rant at Caine. "You are in deep shit, Caine. I'm…I'm so mad," Shay yelled as Brielle ran the bath. Striping off her clothes, she slipped carefully into the bath and sat there, listening to Sara calm him down. Finally, after deciding that she'd had enough, she dried and changed clothes.

Then she found her silver locket. It was shiny with a wolf etched into it, a symbol that reminded her of herself for she was always observant and light-footed with keen senses. Inside it on one side were her mother and father, just after she was born. On the other was Caine with a cheeky smile and Shay, for once actually smiling. She clipped it on. She wasn't a fan of jewellery, never mind the fact that they often couldn't afford expensive pieces, but this fit well and reminded her of who she had and who she was.

Trotting down the stairs she saw Shay in a stony silence as Caine pouted and turned to her. "Ready to go?" he asked. Shay actually realised that she was there and gave her a warm look. And, with that, the four of them left together.

* * *

**Darson Markson, 17 years old. **

Darson frowned as he arrived at the reaping area, a mass of children and teenagers alike. Darson grimaced, the smell of unwashed bodies hitting his nose. _Yeah, some people were so poor in this District that they couldn't even wash,_ he thought, sighing. Luckily he could.

Darson looked over to his parents who had Mara between them and he sighed with relief. She was only 9, too young for the Reaping, thank the Capitol_._ _On second thoughts don't thank the Capitol, they're the problem around here,_ he thought, trying not to growl. He hated the Capitol; they were so stuck up their own asses.

At last he saw the mayor approach, followed by the escort and the mentors. There was a ripple around the audience as an incredibly old Beetee made his way on stage, followed by the other victor (of the 86th Hunger Games) Alexis Sparks. Silence descended on the audience as the mayor started his speech. Darson's eyes flickered around Beetee's face. Darson had been told that his District partner, Wiress, had been lost in the last quell. Twenty five years later and here they all stood.

At long last, the escort ambled on stage followed closely by the Capitol Children. One of the boys was the same age as Darson with a wiry but tall body and bright blue eyes. A lightning bolt had been tattooed onto his left cheek. His purple shirt reeked of the Capitol but the boy himself didn't seem too happy to be wearing it. The other boy was smaller and younger with copper hair and bright yellow eyes. _Surgery,_ Darson thought.

The escort, who was named Pineapple, welcomed everyone. Darson's faced twitched in amusement, _Pineapple!_

Finally he went to the reaping bowl and readied to pick the boy's name. "And the male is… Darson Markson!" he yelled, a slight accent going on.

He closed his eyes and suppressed a sigh. So here he was, going into the Games. He pushed all emotions out of his head, most concerning the wellbeing of his sister. He couldn't look to Mara; this would cause him to break down.

However Darson remained strong and reached the stage, climbing it with ease. The boy with the purple shirt stood next to him, his thin face turning to look at Darson. "My name is Baron, Baron Del Salem, please ignore the shirt," he said, his tone bored.

Nodding, Pineapple moved on.

* * *

**Brielle Raynali, 15 years old. **

The two boys looked like they'd suit each other quite well. Both wore identical bored expressions. Their eyes narrowed together as they watched Pineapple on stage. Both of their eyebrows raised at the same time as Pineapple snatched up a piece of paper with someone's name on it.

Brielle pushed her fingernails into her palms as she waited those tense moments. Brielle realised that Pineapple hadn't even asked for volunteers. However, really there was no point, no one volunteered unless they were a suicidal maniac.

Finally, Pineapple read out a name, "Brielle Raynali!"

Brielle stopped. That was her. She felt herself tremble as she dug her fingernails deeper. She had to get walking. Behind her, she could hear her two brothers calling out, yelling abuse. There was a noise of electricity and Brielle turned to see a Peacekeeper wielding a shock stick. Shay was bent over, clutching his stomach as Caine stood up against the Peacekeeper.

The tears were coming; she almost ran to the stage and nearly fell over, the Capitol boy helping her up. Now she was up, she could see his mischievous smile mixed with the look of concern on his face. "I'm Phosphorus," he whispered, slipping a hand around her shoulders but the mischievous smile remained.

As the reaping concluded, Darson caught her eye and she could see him with a blank expression. But she could see deeper into his eyes and saw that look of pity for her.

"That's it for the District 3 Reapings, goodbye!" Pineapple roared enthusiastically and the four got escorted off stage.


	6. District 4: Friends Do Mean A Lot

**I'm glad everyone liked the last reaping. I personally quite like them tributes along with these two as well. In fact, I love all the tributes but there you go. Thanks for all the reviews as well guys!**

**These awesome tributes are by shakakid and Holly Blossom. Reviews would be great guys!**

* * *

**Alexandria Raves, 17 year old. **

"Oi, Alex get up already," a voice said urgently, and grunting, she opened her dark blue eyes. Emmett stared at her, his full lips pursed into a smile. She shot up, covering herself with her blankets. The days had got hotter, and because of this, she, like most, only wore shorts and some form of loose top in bed. He chuckled lightly and shifted back so he sat cross legged on the bottom of her bed. He wore shorts and a t-shirt and gently pushed his shaggy bronze hair out his face.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed and he smiled. Lacing his fingers behind his head he gave her a mischievous gaze.

"Well, the orphanage seemed to be running around everywhere preparing people, so, they haven't noticed me in here yet. And why I came, I wanted to see you, duh," he said. Yes, the orphanage was strict on males and females being in each other's rooms. Emmett was risking a lot being here, however being Emmett; he didn't seem too bothered about this.

Alex and Emmett had been friends since Alex could remember. She was a baby when she had come here, abandoned on the doorstep. "I thought you would have gone to visit Ivy," she remarked and he chuckled nervously.

"I don't think she wants to see me after that accident with the water and... yeah, let's leave it at that," he said, pulling at his collar. Beyond the door, they could both hear the sound of the mistress yelling at her staff and the kids alike.

"Reaping day," Emmett then intoned, rolling his eyes. Reaping day wasn't fun for either of them. Least of all was getting ready. The staff made sure that they washed thoroughly before changing into some second hand goods and lining up while the staff inspected them all over. It wasn't fun, to say the least. The door of her room opened up and Emmett tried to hide, to no avail. Luckily it was Ivy, Alex's best friend, who lived at the orphanage.

Ivy saw Emmett and her eyes hardened. This was most unlike Ivy, the girl that was always so sweet and loving. Normally, it was Alex who did the death stares and sulking. Emmett gave her a salute as Ivy settled down near him. "You shouldn't be here," she said.

Emmett rolled his eyes, "I know that. A 'hi' would have been nice," he muttered under his breath and she grabbed him by the collar. He broke out into a round of 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry' which both of the girls couldn't help but laugh at. Ivy then settled down and sighed.

"I gather you two are training just in case," she remarked and both of them nodded. It was important to train, not that they'd had any choice in it to begin with. The orphanage made sure that they all trained; maybe for fear that the President or the Mayor might pull down the orphanage. Like that would happen, Alex thought as she shooed the two of them from the room so that she could get dressed.

The two of them left, whispering to each other. Alex changed quickly, glad to get into some training gear and she walked out onto the corridor filled with pictures drawn by two year olds. She passed the mistress who was yelling at a group of lads. Rolling her eyes, she passed the dining room and picked up a piece of toast before carrying along. Finally, she reached one of the rooms that was used for both assembly and training. Ivy and Emmett were also here, both of them wielding tridents. Ivy seemed to have the upper hand. For a little time, Alex watched them both, munching on the toast, glad to eat something.

Then, picking up a trident, she joined the others, glad that, if this was to be her last day here, it was a good one. She spun it a few times in her hands and performed a few experimental jabs. Then putting it in position, she aimed at Ivy. Ivy dodged, rolling to avoid it before coming up and pushing Alex back lightly. Alex swung again and missing, she swung it under Ivy's feet, tripping her up. Ivy fell and Alex pressed the trident gently against her throat.

Something it her back and turning, she saw Emmett grinning, holding his own trident in his hands. She lashed out but he was quick, ducking and hitting his own trident against her knees. They only fought lightly, trying not to injure each other to much. Besides, it would only be so long until the Mistress of the orphanage came out to have a go at one of them for no reason at all. She often did that when she was stressed.

As the three rested by the side of the room after some training, Alex watched as a lone male entered the training facility. Alex had not forgotten that the training area could be used by anyone, not just the children of the orphanage. The guy was maybe slightly older than she was with tousled chestnut hair and a lean body, something which didn't match with his broad shoulders.

He picked up a trident himself and started to attack the dummies that filled up the room. Stuffing flew everywhere as the guy ripped the mannequins to nothing. Ivy raised an eyebrow as Alex slowly got up. She almost glided across the room, a small smile pricking at the corner of her lips. He spotted her, his navy eyes just about concealing his curiosity.

"Can I help you?" he asked, his voice husky but kind. He put a hand to a scar that split his left eyebrow. Alex had sustained a few scars herself but many not so noticeable. The boy, however didn't seem too bothered by it.

"Nah, just I haven't seen you here before," she said, relaxing slightly.

He gave her a quizzical glance before responding, "You live at the orphanage." It wasn't an accusation, just a statement. He spoke formally, betraying no emotion in his speech.

He then passed her the trident and turned on his heels before going out the way he had come. She looked over to her two friends and they both shrugged.

_Well, that was rude._

* * *

**Jared Summers, 18 year old.**

Jared left the training room and exited onto the streets of District 4. He didn't want to talk to people, not today. Today, like this time every year, was a time for reflection. There was a chance that he would be reaped. In District 4, this was a time for celebration but for him, it was a time to look back and a time to fear the Capitol.

He walked through the packed in streets and finally made his way towards the water's edge. He felt calm here, collected. The sea was always a magical sight to him and he settled down. He sighed and looked across at a few boats sailing out.

If only he could do that, sail away and never be seen again. It was a thought which always plagued him. His mother wasn't around anymore, killed in a storm and his father hadn't coped with it anymore. In fact, he'd gone to alcohol and now he sat around drunken most of the time. His father wasn't violent, simply drowning in his own pity. Jared even wondered if his father noticed him anymore. If he did, he wasn't bothered.

Getting up, he strolled around the beaches end, thinking and simply taking things in. He was a silent man, preferring to watch then speak. This didn't mean that he'd stopped all together, it was just rare, and mostly when he was confused.

Sitting at the water, he watched the ocean waves. The reaping, it coming up soon. It was weird; some years District 4 had a load of volunteers and the next year none, leaving the reaped children to face the arena. It was like the District was undecided whether or not the Hunger Games were a good thing. However, this didn't stop the District being a Career District when it suited them. And, District 4 did still have quite a few victors, though their most famous, Finnick, was gone.

"Hey, my swimming buddy, what's up?" a voice said from behind him and he turned slightly to see his 24 year old buddy coming to sit next to him. The two of them were firm friends and Jared's only friend as far as he was concerned. How his friend could stay so happy, so calm in a situation such as this was unbelievable, especially after everything he had to put up with. This included his insane mother.

"Nathaniel Odair, what's the surprise?" Jared asked, nearly smiling, nearly. Nathaniel sat down next to him and gazed out. Both of them were swimming champions, earning a decent pay off it. After all, how was his father supposed to get booze?

"Hey, man. Seriously, looking forward to today?" Nathaniel asked, smiling but his eyes showed sadness. He was holding back his fear. His mother Annie was still a District 4 victor meaning that she had to help out with training the tributes.

He shook his head and Nathaniel sighed. "Man, Mum had a fit when she saw the two Capitol children on her doorstep. I think that the Capitol put them there so she would go crazy. It's not helping that it's a quell as well, you know," he said and wiped his eyes. "And, you know, my father died sometime after the quell."

They sat in silence for a while, both of them content with just sitting there. The sun shone higher in the sky. At long last, Jared got up and said his goodbyes to Nathaniel who returned them. He walked home quietly. He hoped that he wouldn't have an encounter with his father. He wasn't so lucky.

His father was slumped in front of the TV, his eyes blank as he downed another bottle of liquor. His head swivelled around to meet Jared and he grunted something. Jared nodded and made his way for the stairs. A hand gripped him firmly on the shoulder, "Money?"

Jared shook his head and pulled the hand off him. His father rolled back slightly and then slammed his fist into the door next to Jared's head. "Money?" he said, his voice a bit louder now as he groped for his bottle with one hand. Jared wrinkled his nose up; he stunk of body odour and booze, not the greatest of combinations. Finally Jared dug around in his pockets and managed to pull out a coin or two. His father snatched it out his hands and they fell to the floor. His father dropped to the ground and scavenged them off the floor quickly, his tongue hanging out his mouth.

In the process, Jared quickly got out the way and ran up the stairs, trying to get ready for the reaping.

* * *

**Alexandria Raves, 17 year old.**

Alex waited in line for the reaping. Ivy stood next to her in a light pink dress and a pair of shoes. Alex watched the stage as the mayor ascended with the escort, Zia. Then she saw the victors, there were quite a few in District 4 but Alex's eyes trained on Annie who was shaking violently as she was practically dragged on stage. She could see her son with her, trying desperately to calm her down. Then she saw the two Capitol children. The male was around her age with very short black hair and bright unnatural green eyes. The other was a small girl with short purple hair and amber eyes. She had a cat-like figure but she gave off this impression that she maybe older than she looked.

Alex looked across to Emmett who smirked at her. The Mayor came forward to the podium and began his little speech. There were several cries from Annie and Alex raised an eyebrow. Finally the escort waltzed to the stage and said, "Welcome District 4, I am pleased to be here!" Zia said to a round of applause.

Alex smiled warmly though she knew she would rather not be picked. "Right, let's go straight for the females!" she said and slowly picked out a name. Alex held her breath as her and Ivy held hands.

"Alexandria Raves!" she yelled and Alex stopped. She stood, her mouth open. Her mind buzzed as she tried to think, nothing coming to mind. Ivy nudged her and she clicked into gear. Pushing her emotions down, she walked up to the stage, her legs like lead. Finally she got there and waited for volunteers.

But none came. The boy came to stand next to her and Alex saw how unnatural his eyes really were. They almost glowed and they had this neon vibe about them. She couldn't stop staring, they were just so weird. He nodded and said, "I'm Nero and I take it you like being called Alex, a friend of mine has the same name and she prefers Alex."

She nodded and Zia went over to the boys.

* * *

**Jared Summers, 18 year old.**

Jared watched the girl on stage. He breathed in and waited for a name to be said. As Zia gently grabbed up a piece of paper, a look of worry crossed his face. It could be him. He could be going. He scrunched up his eyes and waited for what could be a turning point in his life.

"Jared Summers!" she yelled and Jared breathed out. A wave of fear went through him as he looked to Nathaniel who gave him a grave look. Slowly, he gritted his teeth and walked briskly to the stage. The girl stood next to him, her eyes shone with light amusement. At this stage, Jared didn't know whether he liked this girl.

"I'm Briar," she said, pushing some of her hair out of her face. He nodded curtly and watched the last of the reaping.


	7. District 5: Behind the Mask

**Thanks to all of the Reviews that I have received. I loved reading everyone. Here are your next set of tributes, District 5.**

**Thanks to newbie11 and XMistressChaosX for these interesting tributes. Reviews would be really nice.**

* * *

**Octavian Claudius Amorous, 14 years old.**

Octavian looked up at the cream ceiling of his bedroom. He'd woken up early that morning, something feeling not quite right. The door burst open and his younger brother, Onyx, stood with a smile plastered on his face. He was young, only 12 years of age, but already shaping up to be a perfect Career. District 5 didn't have many volunteers; he would be one of a few. Octavian on the other hand wasn't really into the Games. His family watched them every year but Octavian didn't have any love for them. "Hey Octavian, my first reaping today!" he yelled, jumping onto his brother.

Octavian grunted as Onyx's full weight fell on him. Pushing his brother off him lightly, he scrabbled into a sitting position and gave him a warm smile. He didn't really know how he felt about his brother having his first reaping. He supposed there was nothing he could do about it. "You're n-not volunteering are you?" he asked and Onyx shook his head.

"No, father said if I wanted to volunteer, I should do it when I'm much older," he replied, grinning. Ah, his father. He grimaced and Onyx rolled his eyes. "You really don't like him, do you?"

"It's not that I don't like him, it's ju-just, we have n-n-nothing in common and we just don't talk. I mean, like nothing, but we have m-m-mutual respect," he said, and Onyx laughed. They both heard a series of footsteps and his mother walked gently into the room. She smiled, her mouth extending into a beautiful grin, all of her perfect teeth showing. The two of them were close, Octavian being a little mummies' boy. He'd do anything for her.

"Leave your brother be," she said to Onyx and nodding, he left the room. She walked gracefully to his bed and sat down on the edge of it. Slowly, she put a hand through his lightly hued hair and they sat in a comfortable silence. Touching his face, she stroked his cheek, her hazel eyes melting. "Are you okay?" she asked, her voice becoming soft, gentle.

He nodded and leaned against her shoulder. This is where he felt most comfortable. Checking the time, his mother helped him out of his bed and he went down the stairs, his limp only causing him minor trouble. Octavian had been born a sickly child with a heavy limp and a constant stutter. When he had been younger, there were rumours about his family being inbred too much and the rumour did still float around. Still, everybody perceived him as weak and defenceless and he was. Or so everybody thought.

He strutted into the kitchen, his mother shaking her head slightly but there was a sincere smile with it. Onyx laughed and passed him some of the bread. Taking a slice, he quickly ate it, just enough to get him through the morning. He dressed, humming away, and left the house. Out in the District, everybody perceived him to be stupid and weak and so, he acted like it. He'd been doing it for years. Exaggerating his limp, he walked down several of the smog filled streets, passing the Baker as he went by. The Baker gave him a pat on the head. He carried on walking.

Then Octavian saw the group of bullies in the distance and he frowned. So, he had to deal with them today. Looking down, he made a small tremble go through his body as he tried to quickly pass without being spotted, to no avail. "Look who it is, little Oct-Oct-Oct-Octavian," one of them called and he looked over at them fearfully.

"I d-d-d-don't want a-a-any trouble. Please j-j-just let me g-go," he stuttered, looking down and taking a step backwards. One of the bullies smiled and clicked his fingers. Approaching casually, he leaned against the wall. Octavian let a little scream come out his mouth and the bullies all smirked evilly. Turning, he tried to run.

A hand had grabbed the back of his shirt and he was pulled back, going into the guy's clutches. He yelled and a fist smashed into the side of his face. He could feel the cold trickle of blood going down his face, oozing into his shirt. "Octavian, you shouldn't run. We only wanted a chat," he murmured.

"P-p-please l-l-let me g-g-go," he said weakly and it somehow earned a round of laughing and calling. A fist missed the side of his face and he heard a shout from within the bully pack. Fists flew in all directions and the hand went off his collar. Looking fearful, a hand grabbed his arm and pulled him out the moaning pack of bullies. The figure and he ran far into the distance until they reached the north gate of the District.

"Well, that was stupid," the figure said and Octavian smiled. Napoleon faced him, his eyes boring into Octavian's. His only friend had come to help him. And he was one of the few that knew that Octavian wasn't as simple or stupid as he acted.

Octavian shrugged and lay against the fence, looking through it at the outside world. The world beyond Panem. Napoleon, after a moment's hesitation, sat down next to him. "Reaping later, you still going to act like a simpleton?" he asked though he knew the answer. And Octavian said it, the same answer he always gave after that question was asked.

"I've been doing it all my life, n-no point stopping now," he replied, relaxing. Napoleon shook his head and relaxed as well, adrenaline still pumping through the two of them after the assault. They watched the people go by, many fussing around over reaping clothes and such. District 5, where there were hardly any victors. "Have y-you seen the Capitol kids?"

Napoleon nodded and smirked. "Yeah, one of the few to see them this early. They passed my house this very morning. A boy and a girl. Man, the boy was about our age with this long blonde hair and this really long nose," he laughed, "Should have seen the girl though mate, she was like only 12 but she had this bright pink spikey hair and wild gold eyes. And get this; she had like a thousand bracelets on. I'm not even exaggerating. Mental."

Octavian laughed as they watched a girl leave her house. She was only 12 with a small stubborn expression on her face. It would be her first reaping like his own brother. Because of this, he wished her luck silently, hoping that she, like himself, would be fine.

* * *

**Morganya Narda Titan, 12 years old. **

Morganya left her house and walked along the streets, some money tucked away in her skirt. Her mother, a very honest woman, had asked her to go down to the Butcher's and pick up some meat. 'A meal for when we all return home,' she had said as Morganya left. Wrapping her little cardigan around her arms, she trotted down the smoke filled streets.

Morganya went the long way round, trying to avoid the bullies who terrorized all the children. _Idiots_, she thought as she turned a corner. That's when she spotted her worst enemy, Bolonda Perf, the meanest, haughtiest girl in the whole world. Morganya hated Bolonda with a passion.

_It had all started when they had both just started school and they had all been outside, playing with the skipping ropes and the hoops. Morganya had been happily playing with her new friend, Holin Mod when she had come along with her perfect blonde hair and 'adorableness.' She had come down, grabbed the skipping rope and tied Morganya up. Laughing, she stuck her tongue out and left. However Morganya had got her revenge and stole Bolonda's hairbrush._

And Bolonda waltzed over, a smirk lighting up her face. She gave Morganya a look of utter disgust and Morganya returned it. "Well, if it isn't the rubbish," she drawled, cocking her head to the side slightly.

"Why are you talking about yourself?" Morganya retorted before sticking her tongue out. Bolonda stuck her nose in the air as high as a 12 year old could and crossed her arms.

"Yeah, well, I'm wearing this really pretty dress for the Reaping that everybody will be so jealous of," Bolonda said. She strutted off like a peacock, leaving Morganya to glare after her. She carried on a bit faster now; keen to get to the Butchers. Arriving, she asked for her order. The Butcher was a kindly man with a round face and warm brown eyes. Handing over the slab of meat, Morganya paid and started to walk home.

Well, she hobbled home, the meat weighing a ton. Luckily it was wrapped in some plastic of sorts so that it didn't get damaged too much. Her mother was in the kitchen, talking to her father. With a kind smile, he lifted the meat neatly of the floor and placed it on the table. He then lifted her up and she swiped her hands out, not liking the feeling of being up so high. He gave her a loving look and placed her down on the sofa.

"I don't want you to worry about your first Reaping," he said calmly. Morganya nodded her head and bit into her bottom lip. She was very worried, of course, and she dreaded to think what would happen if she had to get on that stage. But with her first Reaping as a Quell, it wasn't the greatest time. Her father smiled gently though he had this look of real sadness. Getting up, she slowly plodded upstairs, a look of grumpiness on her face.

She switched on the old fashioned shower and jumped into it, moaning slightly as the cold water hit her shivering body. In no time she was out and wrapping a massive fluffy towel around her that comforted her. She then found an old dress that had belonged to her mother when she was younger. It was a light pink with a purple butterfly sown into it. It was probably much better than what Bolonda had.

When she finally came downstairs, her mother and father were there, both trying to support happy faces. Morganya could feel there worry, though they tried to conceal it, and it only made her feel worse.

At last, the family all left together, hoping that she wouldn't be reaped. She clutched her mother's hand for a few seconds as they arrived at the plaza, her heart beating rapidly in her chest. Her mother gently soothed her and she signed in quickly before going to stand with a friend of her's, Holin Mod. She had long jet black hair and green eyes that shone as she spotted Morganya. Slowly letting go, she bid farewell to her family and prepared for her first ever Reaping.

* * *

**Octavian Claudius Amorous, 14 years old.**

Octavian waited with Napoleon. The plaza was crowded with children from the District. As they passed most shot him looks of pity as they did every year. Napoleon patted Octavian on the head to keep up with Octavian's act. As the crowds settled down, the mayor came out with their escort, Felix, a young and over energetic man. Behind him swaggered the two Capitol children in all the glory that Napoleon had told him about.

"Greetings District 5," he said, a little too enthusiastically. Octavian paid no attention as he rattled on and instead, he focused on the new 'invisible' cameras that were floating around, recording everything for the Capitol.

He only realised that Felix was drawing the name when Napoleon nudged him in the ribs. And, like in slow motion, he opened the small piece of paper and read out the name loud and clear, "Octavian Claudius Amorous!"

With that tears sprung in his eyes and ran freely down his face. He slowly got out his place, Napoleon holding a hand in front of his face to hide a smile. He tripped over his feet and scrabbled up before trembling and carrying onward towards the stage. He fell over again, hitting the floor as people watched, not quite able to take their eyes off him. A weakling, a coward, someone who would die within a matter of minutes of reaching the arena.

But inside he laughed, he would win. There would be no doubt that the actor, him, would be able to win if he tried. And so reaching the stage, he shook hands with the male, Lysander, who had a sad and slightly scared look on his face as they shook hands.

* * *

**Morganya Narda Titan, 12 years old.**

Morganya watched the boy on stage, clutching himself tightly. Even if she was reaped, she would not look like that. He was already marked, the Careers probably watching him right now. She shook her head and waited as Felix tried to compose himself. Holin and her pressed their hands together in hope that that would give them luck.

Finally, Felix picked out a name and Morganya's eyes swept the Victors. Only two of them, both of them males. The first was Demetrius, a proud, well-kept man but he wasn't shy or pompous. The second was Vincent who slouched. His gray eyes were blank, not even noticing the crowd. During his Games, he'd had to kill the final tribute (a girl from 11) by pouring liquid paraffin over her and then setting her alight. He'd stood there watching, and that was the day where everyone said that he lost any and all emotions.

A voice snapped her back to the present, "Morganya Narda Titan!"

She froze and stared at the escort. Then stopping her foot, she walked towards the stage. It was weird, she thought she might cry but no tears came. She looked to the girl on stage and scowled. _Great_, she would be babysitting a girl from the Capitol. Stomping her foot again, she stood stiffly next to the girl, Titania, who was chewing some gum but looking quite excited.

She looked out to her parents and managed to give a comforting smile. She would have to win, for them.


	8. District 6: Outside the Law

**Here are the District 6 Reapings. Thanks for all the reviews. I'm really thankful to all of you. Please send in more, if you could.**

**Thanks to GoldenfeatherKyru and ET-Azure for these awesome tributes. **

* * *

**Dust Remendado Lectart, 17 years old. **

The ship creaked against the dock and Dust grimaced as he looked to the sun. It was rising steadily, the sky turning to a light pink and blue. "Bizet," he hissed, kicking some dirt off the back of his boots. His eyes darted around the dock, his heart beating faster.

"Don't worry Dust," the voice came back through the ship. Below they could hear a few horses clopping around. Dust hoped that it was an ally and not a potential threat. After all, a lot of things in the smuggling business were a threat. And besides, even though they had paid off the Peacekeepers, it was Reaping Day and that meant that anyone could spot them. He could explain this all to Bizet but it would waste time.

"Are you finished?" Dust hissed as a face popped out from a trapdoor in the wooden ship. It wasn't Bizet; in fact it was his cousin, Farid, the boy from District 8 that had faked his death to become a smuggler.

Farid laughed, his thin lips stretching into that devilish smile which apparently made women swoon. Not that Dust really knew; he stayed away from Farid when he started drinking and flirting. The one time he'd had a drink with Farid, he'd got so drunk that he woke up in the morning covered in sick and with an omega symbol tattooed on the back of his hand. The omega symbol itself had a line through the centre of it. Dust still hadn't a clue what it meant but then after waking up, he'd had the embarrassment of seeing Fleet, his neighbour and friend, in that state.

"We've got the last of it," Bizet's voice echoed through the ship and he climbed after Farid onto the ship. They both were holding bags of clothes and food along with Morphling stuffed in containers.

"Not often we smuggle off a ship, is it? Good though, I get sick of trains," Bizet carried on, chucking a bag to Dust.

The three male's headed down a dirt track and into the main part of the District. To Dust, it looked like a medieval settlement, one that he'd seen while smuggling books out a train that was on its way to the Capitol. He shifted the bag as Farid breathed in the fresh air. "You still got to go to the Reaping, don't ya?" Bizet asked him, motioning to the stage that was being set up just down the hill. The three stood in a copse of trees, one of the few districts that actually had trees, and Dust sighed.

"Yeah, lucky for you that you're 19. And him," he jerked a finger towards Farid, "he's supposed to be dead." Farid laughed lightly, clapped Dust on the back and picked up Dust's bags.

"I'll come and watch the Reaping, support and whatnot. Might as well, shows that I'm there," Bizet said, giving Dust a smile before heading off down a small route that was only known by the Smugglers themselves.

As he made his way down the hill and towards his house, he thought of how happy he was. For once, everything was running smoothly. Like many, he'd joined up with the smugglers at the age of 14, arriving at their camp in the soaking wet. There Bizet had clapped him on the back and soon after he'd met Farid along with a few others. His parents hadn't been too pleased at first, wanting him to go into the family business (a small general store) but when they saw how much he wanted it, they didn't mind too much. Besides they had his sister, May, to help out.

Arriving at the door, he saw Fleet sitting on the brick fence that separated her garden from the end of the road. It wasn't high, only reaching about 4 foot off the ground. She gave him a small smirk, lacing her hands behind her head. "Fleet," he greeted her, keeping his face emotionless.

"Aren't you going to smile for me? Dust that's rude," she said, putting on a faked shock face. She hoped down, gliding across her garden to the little brick fence which separated their gardens. They were now only separated by a few bricks. Her smirk this time was more pronounced, her eyes glittering with amusement.

"Like you care," he said, unable to keep the smile of his face.

She licked her lips and chucked slightly, "Does it hurt you pride being talked to like this?"

He flushed, half-angry half-amused and gave her a nice long glare. The two were friends, though it sometimes flicked to rivals. Even so, she knew how to wind him up. "Say's you, you got well more pride then me," he moaned, breathing out slowly.

She gave him a long look with her navy blue eyes and finally muttered, "Maybe I should change that." Before Dust could answer, she placed her lips on his. A shiver went through his spine as his eyes widened, not quite sure what was going on. Nothing had ever happened like this between the two of them before. They then parted, Dust oddly hungering for more.

Giving him a cheeky wink, she said, "See you around Dust," before giving a quick salute and entering her house. He stood there, his mouth hanging open slightly. A cough made him turn and he glanced to see his mother, arms crossed, giving him a suspicious look.

"Were you going to knock?" she asked tartly, though he voice betrayed light mirth. Giving an awkward grin, he gave her a quick hug before his younger sister, Silvina, bustled out the doorway. She may have been 14 years old, but when she saw him, her eyes lit up like a small child. Grabbing her, he pulled her into a bear hug. She spluttered around but gave out a guffaw of glee.

Then, following his mother, he walked inside their house. Apart from to see the rest of his family, and on special occasions, he rarely came to visit the house. He lived with the other smugglers, travelling from place to place. He'd been to District 5 and 7 along with District 3. Still, he couldn't be happier to be home. Never did he know that it _could _be for the last time.

* * *

**Alia Louise Bennet, 14 years old. **

Alia watched as her crush went by. She sighed, her eyes looking downcast as he walked away, not even noticing her. There were a lot of things in Alia's life that she wasn't pleased with. First the fact that she was an only child, a mistake that she was even born. She understood why her parents hadn't wanted children; they would have to deal with the terror of going through the Reaping and even the Games. But now they were stuck with her, even though they loved her very much and she returned the feeling.

The next thing was the fact that her appearance disgusted her. She hated it; short and pale with freckles. She looked to the other girls, all gathered together talking about boys but she just couldn't fit in with them, though she would have liked to very much. And all this impacted on her confidence, her self-esteem. She had only one friend Bethany-May, or Beth for short, and the two of them sat outside between the copse of trees, where they knew the smugglers went passed along with many seeking refuge in nature.

There was only one thing about her that she considered a 'redeeming' feature about herself and that was the fact that she was sly, cunning even. They had once managed the evade capture of the Peacekeepers after throwing rotten eggs into their office one lonely night. Another time they had secretly crept into the Smugglers Camp and stolen some of their items, most notably some Morphling, which they had later sold on to make a tidy profit. If she had to say something, it was that she was good at sneaking places. It was easy for her to be invisible. But for her, _this was also a curse._

Alia observed the boy, Conan, move further through the undergrowth and finally arrived among the 'popular kids.' He leaned into a girl, a nasty girl by the name of Molly, and kissed her. Alia's small hands clenched into fists. She hated that Molly with a passion, always getting in the way, always making her snarky little comments. 'Look at her, it looks like she hasn't been through puberty,' Molly would say, curling her lip, and the others would laugh.

She didn't even hear Beth sit down next to her, her eyes narrowed. "You still pinning on Conan?" Beth asked, rolling her eyes. Alia didn't see her and Beth nudged her slightly.

"Of course, I love him," Alia declared quietly and Beth gave out a snort. Alia glanced to see Beth with a scowl on her face. "What?"

"You don't love him, you're 14 and besides, he's an arse. Look at him, standing their smug," Beth said, motioning her hands towards him to emphasize. Alia stuck her nose up, not afraid to tell Beth what she thought of that comment. Around Beth, Alia could act herself.

"I do love him and you're only saying that because you don't fancy anyone. You don't know how I feel," Alia interjected, crossing her arms.

Beth snorted again and then a mischievous smile grew on her face. "You won't want to throw rotten apples at them then?" Beth asked suddenly, turning away.

Alia's face lit up, "Why are we so bad?"

"We're not bad; they're just stupid and cruel. Acting horrible to anyone 'lower' than them," Beth said, starting to climb up the nearest tree, a rustling bag on her back. Alia followed, easily climbing up the trunk with no problems. Alia had played around here all her life. It wasn't the safest place. When they were at the top, they hopped from tree to tree. Finally they both settled on a sturdy branch, the group unaware below them.

"What if we hit Conan?" she asked, and Beth just gave her this _seriously get over it_ look. Together they grabbed a couple of cores and then threw them down. The others underneath panicked as they ran around, moaning about their hair and clothes. Meanwhile slimy cores rained down over them all. Beth gave out a laugh, one which Alia couldn't help but join in at. They started to run, screaming at the top of their lungs.

Conan looked up, spotting Alia. He gave her a hard, cold stare and said simply, "You should be ashamed." Then, he ran after his friends.

Alia blushed and felt tears well up in her eyes. She'd done it, she'd upset Conan and now he'd never look at her again. _What was she thinking? _She watched him run off and it felt like her heart was falling into an abyss. Beth saw her and sighing, she put an arm around Alia.

"It's all my fault," she moaned, crying into Beth's shoulder. Beth kept her silence and climbing back down the tree, Alia followed sadly. The two of them trekked home, Alia feeling even more downcast than before. He wouldn't even look at her; she would be _nobody_ to him.

The two of them parted, Alia not feeling like talking anymore and walked home, wondering if today could get any worse.

* * *

**Dust Remendado Lectart, 17 years old. **

Dust stood next to his brother, Gibbs, as they got checked in. "You'll be fine," he told his brother one last time as they separated. Passing Bizet in the crowds, he made his way along to the 17 year old male section and stood there, stiff as a board. He glace along to the 16 year old section where Fleet stood, relaxed but watching the stage with apprehension.

Dust didn't know how he felt about Fleet but he couldn't deny that the kiss was spectacular, even if he would never admit it. Staring at the stage, he watched as the Mayoress allowed the escort on stage followed by the two children.

The escort hadn't changed, it was still the same one that they'd had for the last 10 years or so. He looked old, covered in blue makeup, and had surgery to attempt to look younger. Dust easily recalled his name, Wade.

The two other children however was something that deeply interested Dust. There was a male and female, both standing proud. The male was well built with flashing gray eyes and scars that ran all the way down his face. It looked like a wolf has attacked him, clawed at his face, and Dust knew that there would be a story to that. The girl was younger with a cat-like build and long nails sharpened to a point. Her hair was a black with dark green tips, something most unusual.

Finally after the Mayoress had rambled on (no one taking anything in), Wade strutted forward, his suit opening up like a peacock tail. _Well, that's…interesting, _Dust thought.

"Welcome District 6," he said, obviously not wanting to be in this District. Clapping his hands together, he introduced the capitol children, "Aeron and Ophelia!"

Noting the names for if he ever needed to know them, Wade went and picked out a name from the reaping bowl. "And now, the male," Wade announced, "Dust Remendado Lectart!"

Dust stopped, his mouth opening only slightly. His eyes widened in shock and he after a moment, started to walk forward. Gritting his teeth, he marched forward. Behind he could hear the gasps and protests from his friends and family. "Oh, shit, shit, oh shit. Not good. Not good," he muttered under his breath as he ascended the steps.

The boy, Aeron, came to stand next to him, his body perfectly still. "Moving on," Wade yelled.

* * *

**Alia Louise Bennet, 14 years old. **

Alia observed the Dust on stage, her eyes wondering over him. _He'll be fine_, she thought. Her eyes then drifted over the two mentors, Swan and Cornell, both of them slumping in their seats. Cornell seemed to have some device in his ears and he was clicking his fingers quietly.

Finally Wade drew the second name and all the girls took a deep breath, Alia included. Beth clutched Alia's hand as Molly was looking over at Dust with a small pout. "Alia Louise Bennet," he roared and her heart stopped.

She would have to go in the Hunger Games. _No, no, no,_ she thought. Beth had gone a deathly shade of white and unclutching her hand, Alia trailed to the front. Tears started to well in her eyes and she attempted to push them down. Digging her nails into her side, she, at last, reached the stage. She saw a flash of pity in Dust's eyes before it was concealed again. The girl, Ophelia, however, seemed quite happy, greeting her exceptionally nicely.

"And that is the District 6 Reaping! Give a round of applause for your tributes," Wade said and Alia's heart sunk even further. It seemed things could get worse.


	9. District 7: The Avenger and The Pacifist

**Okay, this one maybe a day or so late and for that I apologize. I'll be honest, I found Chet quite hard to write for so I'm sorry if his POV is a little short. I also had to go for the title (avengers!)**

**Thanks for all the reviews and also thanks to XxEmbraceTheWeirdnessxX and vamp or wolf-luv em both for these tributes. Reviews would be great!  
**

* * *

**Jasmine Paylin, 17 years old. **

Sadness clung to the house like a baby to its mother. Jasmine could feel it thick in the air, having to wade through it to get to the kitchen. This was the day; the day three years ago when her brother had been taken. Ripped cruelly from their family to fight in the Games and they watched him die, one of the final 8. She remembered him clearly with his crooked smile and his hazel eyes that lit up when he was happy. Jasmine sighed, wishing that Rowan could be back here with her.

The kitchen was small, bare with wooden cabinets without food in. The family were poor, earning a few bits and bobs from the jobs they all did. Most days, after Jasmine had finished school, her and her friend Ivy would head to the woods. The two of them helped cut down the trees in return for some money. Ivy was richer than Jasmine but she helped out none the less.

Her brother was constantly in her thoughts. Thinking about when he lived and how he died. Rowan and her had been extremely close, always together. Rowan had been 16 when he was in the Games, making him 19 now if he had still lived. His death played constantly in her head. A group of skeleton fox mutts had attacked, striping him of his vital organs. She hadn't watched the rest.

She shook her head, clearing the thoughts and looked at her mother who was staring out the window, lost in her own thoughts. Her mother had been distant from her ever since Rowan had died, even more so when Jasmine had said that she wanted to volunteer for his sake. To avenge him! Her father knew as well but he took the encouragement route, supporting her when possible. Jasmine had once come downstairs for a glass of water during the night to hear her parents yelling at each other, arguing over her and the Games.

Jasmine didn't even bother getting any breakfast. Even if there was some, she couldn't stomach it. Not today. Jasmine didn't know why she was particularly volunteering for this year. Maybe the idea of a Quell did make her chances more attractive. Maybe it was so she had some Capitol person that she could physically despise instead of someone imaginary that she often felt angry at.

Jasmine followed her nose into the woods, seeking out comfort. The forest was a calming place, the sounds and senses overcoming her. She relaxed against a tree, enjoying the slight breeze rusting through the forest. For a moment, she watched some birds fluttering near the trees and they landed a little from her, chirping happily to each other. She bent down, each movement careful and precise. When she had been younger, her father had kept pigeons so she knew how to handle them. They sensed her but did not move away; their eyes were alert.

She gave out a simple bird call and after a while, one of them returned it. She had a few exchanges with it and they all came closer. Putting out a steady hand, a brave and bold bird jumped up to her and landed snugly in her palm. One of them squawked and the rest began to flutter. Twirling out her hand, the bird joined the others and they quickly moved away, sending out warning calls. She froze, exhaling quietly.

Something burst through the undergrowth, its shaggy brown fur blending with the world around it. The birds zoomed off in different directions as the figure jumped massively into the air and caught one in its jaws. Landing, it tore the tweeting bird in half and spotted Jasmine. The creature was a wolf, not uncommon in these parts. She spun on her heels, tearing across the forest floor. She knew that these wolves were vicious; one of the reasons why they were allowed knives and axes in the District. It was hot on her heels, its warm breath hitting the backs of her legs. She turned suddenly, bringing her leg out and smashing it across the muzzle. It howled, jumped and landed roughly on her. She screamed, trying to pull it off. An arrow zoomed past her and the wolf moved its head, sensing where it had come from. Another one pierced its flank and Jasmine smashed a fist into the wolf's head. As she was at an advantage, she pushed the wolf off with all the force she could muster and it was flung into the air.

The creature landed and nimbly dodged an arrow. It ran off in the direction of the arrows. Grabbing a stone lying on the floor, she ran after the creature which was barrelling down on a group of teens. With heavy hands, she threw it down on the creature and it made a crunching noise. The three others moved around it, though it was barely breathing. Only a little of fight was left in the wolf. She glanced at the teenagers. One of them held a bow while the others had axes. "Kill it, Chet," the one with the bow said.

The boy named Chet shook his head, "I don't condone killing." He said it so matter of factly, it was strange for Jasmine to hear. He dropped the axe, his eyes roaming her. He was a bit younger than her, his brown hair cropped short as his long fingered hands unclenched.

"The thing would have killed me," she said, irritated. Sure, she would kill the wolf if she had a weapon. There was no doubt about that. If she didn't then it would come back to haunt her.

He shrugged, "That's bad but I still don't condone killing. No animal or human should be killed or harmed. Ever."

She gave out a snort, an anger bubbling up inside her. Didn't the boy see; you had to kill; it was a matter of survival. Sure, she obviously didn't like it and of course, murder was wrong but sometimes it had to happen. "What about if you were in the Games," she argued, "You'd have to kill."

He gave her this piercing look with his dark eyes and said simply but with passion, "I'd rather die than kill." The one with the bow loaded it and Chet gave him a dark condoning look. The boy simply looked away and without hesitation, he shot, killing the creature instantly as Chet roared at him not to do it.

Jasmine nodded thanks to the boy as Chet began to yell at him, telling him how bad he was. Grabbing the wolf, she hoisted it onto her back. It would do for food and the skin could be sold. Turning her back, she heard the boy with the bow yell, "She's right, stop being a pacifist, it'll be the end of you."

* * *

**Chet Stanton, 15 years old. **

Bay gave him a hard look, clutching the bow in his pale hands. Slowly, Chet picked up his own axe and the three set off through the forest in silence. Couldn't anyone see things his way? There was no pride in killing; no need to violence. He hated the thought of killing, whether the person or animal in question was innocent or guilty. He couldn't stand the Games, unnecessary bloodshed, and he despised the Careers who relished it.

They reached the edge of the forest and the three of them walked down some of the lanes together, finally finding a decent place to sit. After some tense moments, Bay sighed, "Man, what's going to happen if one of us ends up in the Games?"

"Well, we get shipped off to the Capitol to get dressed up before one of us probably dies," Chet answered, his voice flat.

Bay gave him that _I'm serious _look and Chet rolled his eyes. "Looking after a kid as well," Bay continued.

Chet nodded as his other friend Clancy laced his fingers behind his head. "You'd be done for Chet, no murder. You have to kill in the Games unless you want to die of course."

Chet gave Clancy a sideways look and shook his head, "No. Even if I was in the Games, I'd never kill. Never. Killing is wrong."

The three of them took the trail into the town centre, deciding to spend what time they had left of the day. As the three pondered through the streets they came across a group of Peacekeepers helping with the preparations for the Reaping. Chet scowled as they watched the escort trot through them all, her ridiculous inch heels oozing with glitter. And that wasn't even a joke; glitter was literally dripping from the high heels. Chet couldn't help but stare, what an odd fashion.

Chet clenched his fists but did nothing. This sort of thing just wound him up really badly. How could the Capitol do this?

Finally the three boys parted and Chet made his way home, humming to himself. His younger brother and sister were both home. He sat beside them both, flicking through the endless propaganda. His younger sister was 13, this being her second reaping and still Chet worried for her. His younger brother however was not eligible for the reaping which made Chet feel only slightly better. At least that was one thing less to worry about.

Chet worried about everything and he clicked his fingers aimlessly, wondering where his father was. As the time ticked nearer, he shot up, not wasting any more time waiting for him. "Right, come on, it's time to get you both ready for the reaping," he said, ushering the both of them upstairs. He heard the two of them muttering complaints as he ran the bath first for his sister and then for his brother.

Looking at the clock an hour later, his father still hadn't returned. He ran the bath a third time, using the last of the water. Stripping, he dived in, shivering as the cold water hit him. Down below he heard the door burst open and the two younger kids calling for his father. Chet just gave out an annoyed sigh and finished washing. _So now his father turns up_, he thought, irritated. Getting out, he changed quickly and bounded down the stairs. His father greeted him sheepishly and balling up his fists, Chet's nostrils flared.

However he said nothing, smouldering silently as his father passed. Letting his anger go, he calmed and opened the front door. With all his heart he wished that neither he nor his sister were picked.

* * *

**Jasmine Paylin, 17 years old.**

Jasmine froze as she stood in line. This would be it. This would be when she volunteered to avenge her brother's death. She would get to the Capitol this time. The obnoxious escort teetered to the front, followed by the two Capitol children. Jasmine had a good look at the two of them, knowing that she would be stuck babysitting one of them.

The older boy was slim and tall with long hair tied back in a ponytail. Glasses were perched on his long nose and underneath he wiped his amber eyes. The other boy may have been younger but he was a brute, a mass of toned muscles. The child must have only been 15 but he showed more arrogance than the other wispy kid next to him.

The escort reached the microphone and spoke through it in her grating Capitol accent. "Welcome District 7," she announced, "I am Nyx and I am your escort this year."

Jasmine ignored all of her rubbish, instead staring at the victors and at the place where her brother should have stood. Her eyes finally found Johanna Mason who was in her 40s but still somehow looking good. Finally she saw Nyx go to the reaping bowl, her eyes lighting up. Jasmine pretended to spit on the floor and picking out a name, Nyx read it in her 'delightful' voice, "Alice Creed."

A 16 year old girl staggered towards the stage. Nyx beckoned her up and she gave out a shaky smile. "Right then onto the boys," Nyx said, turning away.

As no one ever volunteered, no one even bothered with asking for volunteers anymore. Pushing the other girls out the way, Jasmine made her way to the front. "I volunteer," she screamed, waving her arms around. Adrenaline pumped around her body, making her feel sweaty and a little dizzy. Nyx turned back and flashed a confused look. When Jasmine screamed again, Nyx literally pushed Alice off the stage and helped Jasmine up.

"I am Jasmine Paylin," she said, relieved to be on the stage and to finally start making them pay for the loss of her brother. She nodded and finally turned for the boys names. The older, taller boy came to stand next to her. His name was Tybalt, _interesting_, she thought.

* * *

**Chet Stanton, 15 years old. **

Chet shook his head, disgusted. Another wannabe Career. He could see that Nyx looked positively ecstatic having a volunteer. _Maybe this year they might have a winner_, he thought. At last Nyx pulled out another name and read it out loud.

"Chet Stanton," she read.

His mouth fell open and he slowly forced it closed. His palms suddenly dripped with sweat and his legs felt like lead as he tried to move them. How would he survive? He had no chance. Moving himself forward, he struggled to get to the top, feeling tears spring to the corner of his eyes. He tried to force them away but it was no use. As he reached the top, he shook Nyx's hands and stood next to the other boy.

"Names Caligula, now stop your crying," the boy said, looking angry that Chet was upset. Caligula stood by the side of him, his body stiff. Chet could tell immediately that Caligula didn't like him.

"We're going to die," he muttered as Nyx concluded. Shaking his head slightly, Caligula turned to him.

"Buck your ideas up, you're making us look weak," Caligula said, his teeth notably gritted together. Chet couldn't help it though; he was never any good in stressful situations. Caligula breathed out and when they were allowed to leave, Caligula walked ahead, leaving Chet behind. Alone.


	10. District 8: Wanted

**Okay, I've managed to get this one out quite quickly. District 8 have been interesting to write about. Anyway, thanks to Aira Skies and Kazza12345 for these interesting tributes. Reviews would be really welcome.**

* * *

**Luke Kripac, 12 years old. **

Luke could hear her father fussing over his twin sister downstairs. He frowned, clenching his fists. It wasn't fair, his father always gave his sister affection over him, just because she looked like their dead mother. Luke closed his eyes and then re-opened them. He hated it, always being over shadowed, always being looked down on. Second-best. Always second-best. He swung his feet over the end of his bed and he sat there for a few moments.

He craved his father's attention so much. But he hardly even got looked at. Landing on the floor, he staggered down to where his father and twin sister, Beth, were sat, sharing breakfast. His father didn't even greet him; he just simply carried on talking to Beth. Luke was like a ghost to him, invisible. Beth caught his eye thought and when their father wasn't looking, she stuck her small pink tongue out at him.

The two of them didn't hate each other though it came close to that. Deep down, Luke did love his twin sister but he wouldn't admit it. Never. He grabbed a bowl from the top shelf, having to climb on the kitchen work surface to reach it, and brought it back down. He filled it with cereal, added some milk, and left, grabbing a spoon beforehand. Entering the lounge, he sat down; legs crossed and ate with a grumpy expression. Mornings always made him grumpy, though as soon as he would get out the house, he would be fine.

Scraping the last of the cereal of the bowl, he swallowed it and stuffed the bowl to one side. He'd let his father deal with it. Maybe he'd shout at Luke and for once he would be noticed. But the likelihood of that was almost nil. It still didn't stop Luke trying. He quickly got dressed, avoiding his sister like the plague, and left the house.

He sat on the fence, the sun warming his back, and waited for his neighbour to come outside. And indeed she did. His neighbour sat on the bench outside their house and waved Luke over.

Her name was Mrs. Houston and she was old, having to use a walking stick to get around. Still, around her Luke felt wanted and happy. Mrs. Houston gave him a nice smile, wrinkles cluttering up her face and said, "Hello Luke, dear. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, thanks," he responded, relaxing in the wooden chair. Underneath, however, he was still thinking about his father and his sister. It made him so angry, not that anyone took him seriously when he was angry. Every time he got angry, most people laughed and laughed.

"Would you like some cookies, dear? I've made some specially for today," Mrs Houston said, her voice caring and polite. Luke felt that Mrs. Houston was more like a parent than his father had ever been and he followed her, smiling for once.

The house was small, cluttered with antiques and new items alike. It had that old people feel to it but it felt homey all the same. This is what, he assumed, grandparents houses were like. Not that he knew; he didn't have any grandparents. He followed her through to a cream coloured kitchen filled to the brim with pots and pans. She bent over the oven and pulled out a plate full of warm cookies, the chocolate chips melting brilliantly in the dough. His mouth watered just looking at them. Setting them out, she offered him one and he took it.

The two of them spend the next couple of hours together, happy and peaceful. Mrs. Houston would never say it, but she loved the boy like her own son and wished eventually that she would have grandchildren that would be like him. She knew his situation with his father and she pitied not only Luke, but his father as well as he was missing out on so much.

Luke enjoyed her company and he felt safe. As he left her house, he went for a walk as a thought struck him. He knew how to get his father's attention. The streets were wide and smoke filled. The whole District was covered in factories and Luke scrunched his nose up at the smell.

He had to volunteer, that would be the only way that his father would ever notice him. He would volunteer and when he'd come back a victor, his father would have to pay him some attention. He smiled, the plan was fool proof. He relaxed even more now, glad that he had finally found an idea that would fix his problem. Finally he wouldn't be plagued by the notion of his father ignoring him forever.

His eyes skimmed over the town centre as he reached it, a small market being set up. It's not that people enjoyed the Games, it was that many liked to buy something special for after the reaping. Luke spotted a girl over by the fruit store. She was his age and about the only person who talked to him on a daily basis. He gave her a wave and she blushed before waving back. Then she waffled over, clutching the fruit to her body. "Hey Luke," she, Sadie, said.

"Hi Sadie," Luke replied, feeling slightly awkward.

She gave him a meek smile before saying, "Good luck for today."

He nodded only slightly. "You…you too," he said and walked off, a grin hovering on his face. He wouldn't need luck, he was going to be the youngest volunteer there was.

* * *

**Anomaly Omen, 17 years old. **

Anomaly scavenged around for food, the hunger pains becoming almost intolerable. Her mismatched eyes zoomed around the town centre. She looked down at her frame, her skin clinging to her body. She was the worst off, the poorest of the poor in her District. Not that anyone cared. She had no family, no known family anyway. All she had was her last name, and it probably wasn't even her real last name either.

She sighed, not letting this get her down. Anomaly was indeed different from others; she sensed it, down in her bones. Picking herself off the ground, not really knowing how she got there in the first place, her narrowed eyes searched everywhere. Maybe she would have to steal some off others, people who could afford it. Slowly, she reached a stall where two young men were holding court. The two looked to be brothers and both had this impish look on their faces. "How can we help you Miss?" one of them asked cheerily, playing with a lock of his brown hair.

Anomaly flinched slightly; she had never been called 'miss' before. Never in her 17 years of living. "I need some food," she said simply, her eyes darting over them. She had weird eyes, perceived to be an omen by the superstitious of the District. One green eye, one brown eye. Weird. Out of place. Different.

"Ah, yes," the other one drawled, "That's what we are selling."

"I have no money," she said flatly and both raised an eyebrow.

"Then we can't help you," the first guy said, his blue eyes shining with some hidden mischief. Eyes were something of an interest to Anomaly. They showed status and often betrayed people feelings. There real intent. Even with people that were blind, their eyes showed who they really were. It seemed that Anomaly's whole life depended on people's eyes. Without thinking, she grabbed two apples from the stall. Both of them exclaimed in shock and she ran, not looking back.

She ran, ran, wondering whether Moggy still had some of her wine yet. Wine or any alcoholic beverage seemed to help Anomaly get rid of this life. It let her leap into a fantasy world where nothing was what it seemed. Moggy didn't even know what alcohol was, she mostly sat in a corner doing nothing. But that was Moggy.

Anomaly heard shouting behind her but she didn't turn and face it like she did with most things in the world. She may have been feisty, ready to take on the world and everything it stood for, but she wasn't stupid. If she was to stop, they would have her taken in; send her to the block or equally, a mental institute for the clinically unstable. In her eyes, she wasn't unstable, everybody else was.

She found what she was looking for, a tunnel going down into darkness. She jumped without hesitation, down until she landed somewhere in the gloom. She was in the sewers now. This was her land and she knew every stretch of it. She passed many of the tunnels until she came out into a square room. Moggy was there, sat in the corner as usual. Then there was the blind boy that had never given his own name. To Anomaly, he was called Blind and he seemed to respond to this name. The two were quite close, closer than she had been with anyone else.

"Blind," she greeted him and he shot up, turning towards her direction, "I got you an apple." He rushed forwards, still able to move fast despite his disability and snatched the apple out of her hands. He didn't thank her. She didn't expect any thanks. The two ate silently and in return, Blind passed her a murky bottle filled with liquid.

She drank it all down, the fiery liquid erupting in her mouth like a volcano. But to her, it was beautiful. Her eyes, adept to the darkness, searched around the small room until they landed on Juno, a deaf old woman that couldn't be more depressing if she tried. A thought clicked in Anomaly's head.

It was Reaping Day.

She said this to Blind who simply nodded. They thought he was dead; he never needed to go to the Reaping. He never left the sewers and as they had never found him, the Capitol had given up and assumed him dead. Anomaly smiled, _the Capitol hardly ever gave up. _However, for her and Moggy, they needed to go to the Reaping. Even if it wasn't their choice.

They had no decent looking clothes, only the rags they were wearing. Not that neither of them cared. They didn't have a shower or a bath either, but to them it didn't matter, they hadn't washed in a long time. No one seemed to care about them, even at the factory that she worked for. And they did nothing to lighten the burden of life. What they paid her for her work was very little. Grabbing Moggy, Anomaly lifted her up, pushing her to her feet. For a moment, Moggy swayed on her feet and Anomaly cursed. She had no time for this.

Grabbing Moggy's hand, Anomaly lead the way out the sewers and finally onto the streets. People gave her looks, for they had nothing better to do. Her mouth became a thin line of disapproval for the human race. She hated most and all seemed to despise her.

Anomaly let the way into the reaping areas and only now she could smell her own scent. It was bad, like she cared, and most moved out the way for her. She pushed Moggy in front of her and signed in, hating her life and at the same time, loving who she was. Anomaly was a strange girl.

* * *

**Luke Kripac, 12 years old. **

Luke still hadn't changed his mind. He was going to volunteer. No one could stop him. He stood with all the other shaking 12 year old boys, all of which were calling for their parents. A few were even crying. Luke stomached his own fear though he shivered a little and watched the escort, a big bloke with girly eyeliner on. Behind him were two girls, the Capitol children. The first one was only his age and but she gave off confidence. Her amber hair was tied back and she wore a confident expression. The second girl looked mellower and wore a slight smile. She looked weird though, striking green eyes and short white hair. Her nails were long, white, gleaming.

The two mentors were behind them, Stark and Lulu. Stark was his cocky self, his suit black with a small red flower pinned to it. His eyes zoomed around the children as if he was looking at a menu. Lulu seemed more subdued. No doubt that they had used some sort of calming drug to get her here.

"Welcome District 8," the escort said, "My name is Passion and I am your escort this year." The crowd did not respond and Luke saw Stark cover his laughing grin with his palm.

"Thank you for letting me be here. Well, shall we get on with it. Male's first," Passion said and he carried on watching as the male mentor was trying to sustain from laughing. However, when Passion read the male name out, Luke's head clicked round.

"Scott Zhang," Passion announced and a 15 year old walked slowly to the stage. He was making an attempt to look cool. It was failing.

When he arrived Passion gave out a small nod and said, "Any volunteers?"

This was it, Luke's moment to get people to notice him. To get his father to notice him. "I do," he yelled, his voice betraying him so he sounded weak. Passion's eyes scanned the crowd and Luke made his way to the front, trembling uncontrollably. He got to the stage and shook the escorts hand before standing next to the younger girl with the confident expression. Her name was Belle. As he said his name he looked to his father. His father nodded, his expression unreadable.

* * *

**Anomaly Omen, 17 years old.**

Her head buzzed. She looked at the boy on the stage and grinned. He had signed his own death warrant. Still, to Anomaly, the concept of the Games were interesting. Her eyes roamed each one of the people on the stage. Passion lurched forward and pulled out a name from the female reaping bowl.

Anomaly glanced at Moggy who hadn't the slightest idea what was going on. The name was read, "Chloe Backwater!"

A smallish girl waddled to the front of the stage. She was trying to be calm but she looked utterly defeated. Anomaly waited as she reached the stage.

Something sparked at the back of Anomaly's mind and as soon as Passion asked for volunteers, she raced towards the stage. Even she wasn't quite sure what she was doing. Emotion rushed through her, making her grin crazily. Why was she volunteering? Even she didn't know. Reaching the stage, she gave her name loud and clear, "Anomaly Omen."

No one seemed to care; they all just gave her that blank stare. The other girl, Quill, ended up next to her and as the reaping finished, Anomaly pursed her lips. It would be an interesting month or so.


	11. District 9: Pushy Parents

**Okay, so time for District 9. I feel that this District is the most underrated and ignored District of all of them and so with this I hope to change that. Also you get a little look into District 9's Capitol children. Thanks to all the reviews as well.**

**Thanks to EmmaRizcool and leavesinlight for these interesting tributes. Please read and review.**

* * *

**Jade Gilmore, 16 years old.**

In the Gilmore household, the Hunger Games were a huge affair. Jade was woken up, her mother's frizzy hair covering Jade's face. Lightly, she pushed her mother away and pulled herself into a sitting position. Seeing that Jade was awake, she ushered out the room, singing the Capitol anthem. Jade grimaced. The Games weren't fun, they were horrible but neither of her parents seemed to care. Even when her older sister, Jewel, had died in the Games, her parents still worshiped them. _Disgusting_, she thought, getting out of the bed with a lazy yawn.

But what was even worse was the fact that her parents still wanted their children to volunteer. They wanted Jade to volunteer this year and she had too. Otherwise her parents had threatened on multiple occasions to abandon her. Let her live on the streets. Alone. Her parents were so obsessed with the Capitol they wished they could go there themselves. But they couldn't, not with their 'lowlife jobs.' But there was a way they could get there. A Victor for a daughter.

She staggered down the stairs, still not fully awake, to the sound of her father playing Capitol propaganda on the screen. The noise made her world fuzz and she groaned, running a hand through her jet black hair. Finally clearing sleep from her eyes, she got to the kitchen and plopped down onto a seat. Her younger sister sat opposite her, not quite sure what to think about the Games. Luckily, she was only 11, and so wouldn't be eligible for another year.

"Are you going to have breakfast?" her sister, Kashis, asked, munching on some cereal. Jade shrugged; she wasn't hungry but she better had something.

She grimaced, snatching up a bowl and pouring some herself. Her mother had come to join them both, singing at the top of her lungs. "Don't forget dear, you have to look strong. You need to show the Careers that they need you," her mother said, her face glowing.

Jade nodded silently and sat back down, slowly eating the cereal. She finished it, her heart pounding in her chest. The feeling of butterflies was even more prominent now and shooting up, she pushed her mother out the way and staggered into the bathroom. Pushing the toilet seat up, she puked into the basin. Tears were welling up in her eyes as she kneeled over the basin, panting heavily. _How could her parents do this? _Her father's whistling was becoming louder and he appeared behind her. "Jade are you okay?" he asked.

She gave him a tearful look and he pulled her up onto her feet. Grabbing some tissue, he carefully wiped her mouth and looked straight into her eyes. "Don't worry, okay? Once you're up on stage you'll be fine," he said before patting her on the back and leaving.

She felt like crying but she didn't. She had to be strong and even though she hated them for what they were doing, she knew they were right. The Careers were her best shot of staying alive and winning the Games. Besides if she started crying and Kashis found her, it would be worse off. Kashis would start crying as well and Jade felt even worse when she cried.

Finally pulling herself together (as much as she could), Jade changed clothes and left the house, trying to seek refuge outside. Maybe she could run, leave the District of golden grain and go and live in the wilds. However she knew that it was a fantasy and that she would never make it, especially on a day like today. She made her way slowly to the outskirts of town and there sat a friend of her's, Flora, flipping a coin in the air and catching it perfectly.

"Hey," Jade said, smiling freely now she was out of the house. Still, she felt her heart pounding just as madly as before.

Flora gave her a wide smile as Jade sat down near her. This was there little spot; below on the left side they had the view of the playing fields where all the boys often went to mess around. Flora lay down, using her hand to prop her head up. Jade lay in the same position, idly watching a group of boys playing football. They were laughing, an almost unheard of sound during reaping day. "Are they still making you volunteer?" Flora then asked, her eyebrows wrinkling.

"Yeah, they said that they would have waited until I was 18 but because of this stupid quell, they want me to volunteer this year," she said, watching as a boy took his shirt off due to the heat.

"That sucks," Flora said before giving Jade a slight smile, "You should go flirt with some of them." Flora pointed to the boys below.

Jade gave out a short laugh, "No way, they'd think I'm a weirdo or something."

Flora shrugged, "This _could_ be your last day here and you've got nothing to lose. Why not?"

"Because…because…just no. Besides you only want me to go down there because you fancy the red head and you want me to help you ask him out," she said, raising an eyebrow.

Flora sat up and crossed her arms, "I do not! That is untrue!"

"It so is. You go down. I'll watch from up here," Jade chuckled and when Flora didn't move, she stood up and grabbed Flora. As she protested, Jade got her up and gently pushed her down the hill. The boys seemed to have noticed now and giving her an annoyed look, Flora set off down the hill, leaving Jade at the top. She resumed her previous position and laughed lightly as Flora talked to the males, a blush showing on her face. It was nice to have one last day with her friend.

* * *

**Forrow Mathers, 12 years old. **

Forrow shot a paper aeroplane with his left hand at Ganto and he caught it with ease. Ganto then threw it over to Koron and the cycle repeated itself. None of the boys had anything to do, nothing, but then again, there was never anything interesting to do on reaping day. Both of his parents and his older brother, Cardo, had been in a state of mourning during today. Forrow hated it, they all looked so sad and it hurt him so much to see them that way.

He understood why they were so miserable but he wished that they would lighten up. Maybe they thought that he wouldn't survive because of his disability. Forrow hated his disability and he looked down at his hand. One hand. He only had one hand. He'd been born without a right hand and wore a hook instead. Cardo had once called him Captain Hook, a name which stuck.

"I'm so bored," Koron said, leaning against the brick wall of the alleyway. Forrow nodded as Ganto snatched the paper aeroplane out of the air.

"What can we do?" Forrow asked, staring down at the dull hook which seemed to have rust on it. He tried to pick it away but it clung to the metal like a disease.

The three young boys thought about it for a few moments until Ganto exclaimed, "Why don't we go spy on Peacekeepers, see what they're up to."

The three boys smiled and set off through the town until they reached the reaping podium. Signalling to Koron, the three boys set off more carefully and soon reached the mayor's house which was packed full of Peacekeepers and other members of the Capitol. The house had an upstairs which was strange for District 9 and it showed that they had status. Or that's what Forrow had got told. "How we going to spy on them?" Koron asked.

"We climb up there and look through that window. I'll climb up as I'm the smallest and I have my hook to help me, you two keep lookout," he said, and Koron, being the biggest out of the three of them, hoisted Forrow onto his shoulders and propelled Forrow into the air. He grabbed several chunks of brick and slowly climbed up, using all the energy he had.

Finally, he peeked his head over the window and stared into a small room. In one corner was a bed and in the other a wardrobe. Books were stacked up in several places around the room making it feel even smaller than it was. He saw two kids in the room. The older child was male with short black hair that fell just above one of his icy blue eyes. He gave out a small grunt and flexed his arms. He wasn't particularly muscular but he gave off an impression of being strong. The guy wore strange clothing like an old fashioned detective from the stories Forrow had got told about. The other girl was smaller, only about his age, and she looked scared, eyeing up the older child. Her light blue hair had been styled so it looked extremely puffy.

She turned slightly and saw him, her teal eyes widening. "Sterling, there's someone there," she said, her small voice full of fear and the older boy turned.

Sterling grabbed the girl and pushed her behind him before saying, "Who are you?"

"Er…er… I'm sorry. I shouldn't b-be here," Forrow stuttered, his voice betraying him.

"Then get out of here. If they come up to get us you'll get in a heap of trouble. Go on! Shoo!" Sterling said, his voice an angry whisper. The door of their room started to creak open and he quickly started to scuttle down the wall.

He heard Sterling whisper, "Aurora, turn away from the window otherwise they'll suspect something." Forrow reached the bottom and he looked up to see Sterling give a quick nod before disappearing from sight. He pushed himself away from the wall and told his friends to get away.

The three of them ran until they were a good distance away from the building. Finally, panting, Forrow stopped. "What happened?" Ganto asked, eyes glittering.

Forrow told all three of them about Sterling and Aurora. He recalled the escape and the two hollered and patted him on the back. At last the three boys parted ways, calling goodbyes to each other and promises to meet up at the reaping. He arrived home, knowing not to let his family know what had happened otherwise he would be in a lot of trouble.

"Look at you, dirty all over," his mother chided when he got home and she sent him straight to the bathroom to wash. He relaxed as he got into the bath water. The children hadn't been what he expected. Sure, they both looked weird, but he didn't expect them to look like that.

He slowly got dressed, the nervousness finally hitting him. He wondered whether he would get reaped and hoped that he would not. Shaking slightly, he rubbed his eyes and tried to clear his thoughts. If he got reaped then he mustn't cry. However he knew deep down that if he was reaped, he wouldn't be able to stop the tears.

* * *

**Jade Gilmore, 16 years old.**

Jade waited in line, her hands gripping Flora's. "You made me look like a total idiot today," Flora said, blushing but happy.

"Oh, come on," Jade smiled, trying to push away the nervousness in her stomach, "I don't know what you're moaning about. You got with him, didn't you?"

"Yeah but…the rest of them think I'm weird," Flora said before turning to Jade, "But thank you. I suppose I wouldn't have got to ask him out if you hadn't helped."

Jade laughed and put a hand around Flora's shoulders. "You're the best friend anyone could ever have."

Flora looked like she was going to say something but quiet hushed over the audience as the escort made her way towards the stage. She was a hideous mess. Her hair was rainbow coloured and her eyes shone a midnight black. Jade didn't think anyone could get any thinner than their escort who was known as Sparkle. Jade grimaced as feelings of dread filled her up. She felt a knot in her stomach and gripped Flora for support. The one and only Victor followed, a young girl of 15 who had won last year. She looked frightened though she had an air of curiosity about her. Jade remembered her name, Ivy Bonaparte.

The two Capitol kids lastly made their way to the stage and were introduced. "District 9, it is a pleasure to be here. We shall start with the ladies, of course," Sparkle said.

She made her way towards the reaping bowl and pulled out a slip of gold paper. "Lara Lynx," she announced. A small 13 year old girl made his way towards the front, crying her eyes out. Jade's eyes flitted towards her parents who were grinning greedily.

"Any volunteers?" she asked, and Jade's hand shot up into the air.

Her heart pounded fearfully as she made her way towards the stage. Tears threated to show and she blinked them away; her legs heavy as she walked. Her parents were clapping and yelling from the back, glad and happy for her. _And probably themselves as well. _

She reached the stage and Sterling stood next to her, his eyes hard and emotionless. "Next, the males!"

* * *

**Forrow Mathers, 12 years old.**

Forrow stood next to his two friends, watching the girl on the stage. Personally, Forrow thought that she was crazy for volunteering, even if he knew not to judge people when he first saw them. He also glanced to Sterling and Aurora, both with blank faces.

His eyes clicked back to Sparkle as she drew a name out. The three boys sucked in a breath and she announced, "Forrow Mathers!"

Her let out a shaky breath as he looked to both his friends. They had both gone a pale colour and one of them slowly pushed Forrow towards the front. Tears slipped out of his eyes as he walked to the stage, feeling his body sag. Tears obscured his vision and wiping them away, he heard a call from the back. "You can't do this to my brother!"

Cardo had run up to him but Peacekeepers got between them both. Forrow watched as one of them smashed a baton straight into Cardo's unprotected face. He groaned and a peacekeeper ushered Farrow up the steps, cursing madly. Reaching the top, he put his left hand over his face. His eyes peeked out in between the fingers. Aurora had stood next to him and carefully touched the hook, as if trying to calm him down. He flashed her a grateful smile.

"And with that, the District 9 reapings are over!" Sparkle said as the two tributes shook hands. His eyes flitted to Sterling who nodded ever so slightly.

"You'll be okay," the girl, Jade, muttered, giving him a slight smile. And with that, they left for the Justice Building.


	12. District 10: The Strong Survive

**So, we've reached double figures and only have a few more Districts left to do. Then its onto the Capitol! Thanks for all the reviews and continue to send them in :P**

**Thanks to Chaos In Her Wake and The Moonlight Sonata for these fantastic tributes.**

* * *

**Merkie Sakid, 15 years old. **

Merkie got up early that morning. Not because it was reaping day however, just because that he had to get up early to see the cattle. His family owned a little cattle farm, not too small but not too large, just large enough to feed them all. Merkie's family were quite big, all six of them sleeping under one roof. There was his mother, his father, his two sisters, him and a man called Serwal who was engaged to one of his sisters.

Trekking through the fields, he stopped around the munching beasts that looked on lazily, their eyes looking at the boy with disinterest. He went up to one of the cows, patting its side. "You know what day it is?" he said to the cow. Surprisingly, it didn't answer.

"No, you're wrong, it's reaping day," he said, giving the cow a shake of his head. He sat down on the sun baked ground and stared at the sun. It looked like the days were getting even hotter than they were before which Merkie guessed was not good as they were already in a minor drought. Weirdly, it only covered Districts 10, 11 and 12.

He got back up the ground to hear footsteps coming towards him. "Merkie," a girl called out, her hair looking even more ginger than normal.

He pivoted on his heels to see his friend Girri running towards him, waving her arms wildly. "Have you seen Sask?" she asked, her brows creased in confusion.

He shook his head, "I haven't left home today so I haven't…"

He drifted off mid-sentence, watching the birds fly through the sky. _How nice it must be to be a bird_, he thought, smiling as one of them swooped. "Will you help me?" Girri then asked, clicking her fingers in front of his face.

"Yeah, yeah," he said dreamily, trailing after Girri as then ran from the cattle farm and hopped over the fence. He jumped with ease, high over the fence. It was weird; no one else could jump as high as Merkie; even fully grown adults and half of the Careers he saw on the TV. Not that you needed a really good jumping ability, it wasn't like it was going to ever save your life.

They ran through the fields, Merkie struggling to keep up as they ran. District 10 was one of the bigger Districts, full of plains with the houses all spaced apart. However, they both agreed that the best place to start was in the market, the only real gathering place in the District. Merkie loved it there, full of colourful tents filled with exciting objects and wonderful smells. It was his favourite place to explore when he had some free time.

"Oi! Eyeballs!" a voice shouted from across one of the stalls and he spotted Hamsa working with his parents on one of the stalls. Normally when someone shouted something like 'eyeballs,' Merkie would be extremely offended but as it was one of his few friends, he didn't mind so much. His eye colour was only one of the many things that marked him out as different in this District. One eye was black, the other a weird gray colour. Still, Merkie didn't care.

"We are on a Sask hunt," he said, nodding about 5 times. Hamsa nodded thoughtfully before walking back to his parents. Merkie watched as they had a quick conversation before he came back to Merkie. The two continued through the market, asking all they could about the missing Sask.

"I saw him fighting with some more boys near the west wall a couple of minutes ago," a shop keeper said and calling Girri over, they all set off.

Reaching the wall a couple of minutes later they saw Sask punch one of the boys. He reeled back but another grabbed him from behind. A third boy smashed his elbow in his face. Merkie and Hamsa sprang into action. Merkie grabbed the boy and heaved him off Sask while Hamsa smashed a fist into the boy's face. He roared, covering his face with his hands as blood dipped down it. Sask hit another one of the boys while Merkie dropped the boy to the floor and went over to help. Girri even joined in, slamming her shin against one of their stomachs.

Getting up, the three boys cast hate filled glances at the group before running away, holding their injured body parts. Girri grabbed Sask and pulled him into a hug as Merkie looked away, counting the bricks on the wall. "Thanks a lot you two," Girri said, pulling at Sask's hand. She led him away, smiling.

"I'll see you at the reaping," Hamsa said, wandering off back to his parents stall. Merkie nodded, walking back the way he came. He walked through the fields, stopping in the middle of one to lie down and soak up the sun. He drew patterns in the earth, scraping the dirt out with his fingers. Smiling, he began to mutter about flying sheep.

"Are you okay?" a voice asked and he sat up, propping himself up with his hands. A girl looked at him. She was few years older with messy brown hair and fierce electric blue eyes that seemed to be searing a whole into his soul.

"Chickens," Merkie responded before nodding, as if she had just said a very interesting comment. She lifted one eyebrow and flexed her fingers. She was on the burly side, not like the petite Girri and had many cuts and bruises covering her.

She nodded slowly, "I'll take that as a yes. Are you from the Asylum?"

District 10 had an asylum, a metal building in the corner of the District. Unwanted and full of the kids that even their mothers didn't love. He didn't answer. Obviously he wasn't from there_, couldn't she see that?_

"Do you want me to take you back there?" she then asked, her eyes becoming darker, as if the conversation was irritating her. Merkie could see that she was trying to keep herself calm, her patients wearing thinner by the second. Merkie just shook his head.

* * *

**Inna Jo Mae, 17 years old. **

Inna stared at the weird boy, her brows crinkled up. In the end she shook her head, leaving the boy to his own demise. Passing him, he mumbled something about the sky being pink and she shook her head. She didn't like the idea of the asylum letting the patients go wherever they wanted.

Inna carried on through the fields until she too reached the market. Grabbing a coin from her pocket, the only one that she had ever been given, she surfed through the market stalls. Crying hit her ears and she rushed over, eyes narrowed.

Satsa stood over a little girl who was rocking backwards and forwards, tears dripping down her face. "What's going on?" Inna said, stomping over.

Sasta looked up and then flicked her perfectly straight brown hair. It shimmered slightly in the light and Inna looked away, feeling a slightly bit inferior. The girl hid herself, curling up into a small ball. "Oh, if it isn't the man, Inna."

Inna's nostrils flared as she clenched her fists. Satsa gave off a snarky smile as her eyes roamed Inna's body. Immediately, Inna felt self-conscious, even though she tried not to show it. Sasta then looked down to the little girl and rolled her eyes. "I'm not even going to bother with you today. See you at the reapings," Sasta said before walking off, swinging her hips.

Glaring as she went past, Inna then rushed over to the girl. "Are you okay?" she asked, bending down. Inna always felt that she had to help people in need, a feeling that she had got when she was at her worst. When her all of her family excluding her mother had been poisoned by the Capitol for poaching, she had thought that life couldn't get worse. However when a boy and his family had come into her life, she had been saved. Now she felt that she had to help others as well, just as they had helped her.

The little girl shook her head before slowly showing Inna a small piece of paper. Inna folded it out and found out that it was a birthday card. The card was brown with a 12 in yellow writing. Inside was a small message from a girl she didn't know. "It's from my cousin in District 5," she said, "It's all that I've got."

The girl was trying not to sob and Inna put her arms around her. In her ear the girl whispered, "My mummy died of a heart attack the other day. My daddy tried to get her some medicine but we have no money… so the Peacekeepers found him stealing and… they whipped him so hard he died. It's my birthday today and no...no one is here."

Inna shook her head, whispering to the girl to stop crying, that everything would be okay. Finally she let go and the girl gave out a hesitant smile before getting onto her feet. Inna's heart went out to the girl as she left. Inna got up back onto her own feet and went in search of her only friend. She spotted him weaving among the crowds, buying a box of fresh strawberries from a stall man as he went passed.

"Dooley Luc," she said as he spotted her. He gave her a dazzling smile and she laughed, glad to see him again. To her, he was like family, like a brother. She cared more for him than anyone else.

"How are you doing?" he asked, opening the box and giving her a strawberry. She smiled, bit into and enjoyed the amazing flavour.

"Not bad," she responded, "Reaping today."

He nodded, "Yeah, I hope neither of us gets reaped. Especially seeming you'd have to look after a kid."

She remembered back to the President's announcement, forced to sit there and watch as he ripped open the envelop and read out the decree. "Have you seen them?"

He nodded vigorously, "A boy and a girl, both of them extremely proud looking, head held high like they owned the place."

The two of them walked back to her house, taking the long route, discussing both the Games and the Capitol. Even though she hated the idea of the Games, the arena ideas always interested Inna. She never knew why but the idea of different settings always attracted her. "What do you reckon it'll be?" she asked.

Dooley Luc shrugged, "Could be a volcano, a beach maybe, perhaps a field full of wheat with like a windmill or something. You know they could do anything."

Finally they reached her house, a little squat building with a slanting roof and missing glass in the windows. She lived with her mother, Desta Mae, who was so sick that she couldn't work so they had no money between them. "Give your mother my love," Dooley Luc said, waving her goodbye as she entered the house.

The place was stuffed to the brim with rubbish, everything covered in a thick layer of dust. Inna had once said that she would clear it out; as of yet, that hadn't been done. She wished she was rich and she envied the Victors up in Victor's Village with their warm fires and plenty of food. There were only two victors in the village however. Two males, Odin, a gruff man that only used one syllable words and a boy of 20 called by his last name, Strider.

Entering the house (which in Inna's opinion was more of a shack,) she dug some relatively clean clothes out of the washing before readying herself for the reaping.

* * *

**Merkie Sakid, 15 years old. **

Merkie arrived at the reaping, gazing down at his suit which he had borrowed from Serwal. The suit was way too big for him but he liked it, it gave him style. Merkie waited in line with Hamsa and Sask, both of them messing around despite the fact that they could all be in mortal peril. Merkie pointed, an exclamation bursting from his mouth as the escort waltzed on stage.

"Is that a dwarf?" Merkie asked as whispers started to fly around the audience. The man must have been only 4 foot 6 with a mop of green hair. The man wore bright yellow top and pastel blue trousers.

Following him was the two victors. Odin looked pretty mellow, a thick beard hanging from his face. Strider seemed a bit livelier but it was obvious he had earphones in. However no one on the stage seemed to notice.

The Capitol kids followed them, a girl with a braid going down her back and a boy who stood up tall. The girl had a cat-like figure and wore a light blue T-shirt with some logo promoting hunting. The boy stood next to her, a black suit on with a dark red tie. Shades obscured his eyes and a fedora sat on his head. The boy looked like a spy.

"Welcome District 10," he said, "My name is Jak and today is the 100th Hunger Games reapings, isn't it exciting?"

There was a round of applause though no one really wanted this. After reading from the Dark Day script, he said, "Right then, how about we start with the males for a change."

He went over to the reaping bowl and drew a slip out. Merkie looked over to the Capitol girl who placed a fingerless glove over her left hand. "And the male is Merkie Sakid."

Whispered zoomed around the audience as Sask nudged him in the ribs, "That's you." Both he and Hamsa gave him a look of pity as Jak called his name out again. Getting out his place in the queue, instead of going to the stage, he rushed the other way. Peacekeepers were hot on his heels as he ran through the isles trying to escape. A hand grabbed his back and spinning around, he smashed a fist into the Peacekeepers face. He reeled back but more peacekeepers came to his rescue, grabbing Merkie and pushing him up towards the stage. He struggled but it was no use, Peacekeepers made sure he couldn't escape again. He reached the stage where the girl stood next to him, a slight smirk on her face.

"Nice one," she said and he nodded, "Name's Artemis."

Jak asked for volunteers but there were none. Merkie nodded again and Jak went back to picking another name out.

* * *

**Inna Jo Mae, 17 years old. **

Inna raised an eyebrow as the boy stood on stage, rocking his heels backwards and forwards. He gave a ruffled look at the Peacekeepers as Jak read out the name.

"Lisa S. Jones," he said.

The girl that she had saved earlier that day, the little 12 year old, walked to the stage. She was shivering hard and sobbing heavily. Inna's heart dropped like a stone as the girl stood next to the Capitol boy. She watched as the Capitol boy regarded Lisa before looking away.

"Any volunteers?" Jak asked and Inna watched the girl on stage. She couldn't let the girl who had gone through so much have to go through this. It would be inhuman to let her go into the Games. Almost unthinkable.

"I volunteer," Inna said, briskly walking to the stage. She could feel people's gazes on her as she reached it. Lisa looked up, her face full of awe. Giving a little smile at Lisa, she jumped into her arms.

"Thank you," Lisa mumbled before rushing off the stage. Inna nodded as the boy stood next to her, pulling his shades down slightly.

"Maximus," he greeted, his voice silky and suave. She nodded to him and looked out towards the crowd. It was going to be hard from now on but for Inna, she was used to it.


	13. District 11: Killing is Fun

**I'm so sorry this took so long but I've been dealing with some personal issues and so I have had no chance to write. Thanks for all the reviews and maybe we could get it to 100. Oh, and look out for the obvious Doctor Who reference, its in there somewhere. **

**Thanks to SeekerDraconis and d11olive-13 for these wonderful tributes. We're are nearing the end of the reapings. **

* * *

**Milo Anthony Ferrell, 13 years old. **

It was Milo's day today. He gripped the frame of the door hard, clutching it tight. The stairs weren't far from his room, or what they called a room, a little square area at the back of a large dusty house. And down the stairs were people yelling, calling, laughing, singing. It was never quiet at the orphanage.

Milo was a strange boy and he looked back at his room, his gray eyes distant, looking past the clutter. He let go of the doorframe and wobbled on his feet before regaining himself. Biting into his lip, he crawled back into his bedroom. He didn't want to go downstairs but he knew he would have too eventually, otherwise the Master of the house would demand that he came downstairs or he would get a hiding. That was never fun.

However it would only be a matter of time until he got the Master too. Another death. Another suspicious but unanswerable death.

Milo retreated into his room, shadows playing across his floor. He dived under the bed, pulling out a decorated box. It was the same stylish box he'd been given when his parents had died. Running his hands across the box, a small smile came to him.

Carefully he opened the box and ran a hand along the rim, taking in a small amount of comfort. Milo had had a bad life for only being 13 years old, and that was to say the least. At the age of 7 his parents had been publically tortured and executed in front of the cameras in Panem for all to see. To see what happens to those who incite riots and rebellion. And everyone had been made to watch, even him, a small 7 year old boy who had done nothing wrong. Then he had gone mad, carted off to the asylum in District 10. They hadn't done much for him but he felt that he was able to return, come back to District 11.

Everything had been fine for a while, sure there were bad days, but mostly he was okay. He may have not responded to people, or laughed and had fun, but he didn't talk about walk in circles anymore or howl in the moonlight. And then the bullying had started, random kids that had heard his past. They had thought it was funny. _Funny! _Then there had been one kid who was far worse than the others. He was going to beat Milo up when no one else was around, down in an alleyway, far from people.

The two had been alone, the silence eerie. The boy had pulled a punch and the two had grappled on the ground, right near the dumpsters with their cartons of half eaten food that the peacekeepers had chucked away. And the empty beer bottles made of glass. The boy had got on top of him, smashing a fist into Milo's face. In his haste, Milo picked up a beer glass and shattered it on the bully boy. Vaguely, Milo remembered a shard of glass piercing the boy's heart. And the blood.

Milo liked the blood. Its crimson colour, the way it moved, the texture of it. The taste, the feel, it was amazing. He had gently rubbed his hand through it, enjoying the feel and he felt relaxed, more than he had ever done before. From then on, he wanted to kill more, to hurt more people. He enjoyed it, the rush of adrenaline and the way people died; how they would moan and scream. So many people for so many different ways. Afterwards he had torn the shard out of the bully's chest and kept it as a memoir. But he'd also kept something else of the bully's too.

He glanced back to the box he was holding, remembering for a fact that he was back in the orphanage bedroom. Alone. Always alone. Inside the box was silk, a dark shade of purple, obviously his mother's choice. He opened it up and found the shard of glass, kept secret. Next to it was a dead organ, a heart, preserved as much as possible. The bully's heart, the one he had caved out the boy's chest. No one had ever found out that it had been him. He smirked, his hands caressing the organ, in a state of demented happiness. A call came from below, "Milo?"

He cursed under his breath and quickly packed it away, shoving it under his bed. They couldn't find out, he would be sent away. Not that it really mattered. This year he would be in the Games and then he could kill to his heart's desire. He gave out what could have been considered a laugh and staggered down the stairs. For Milo, killing was a sport, and it needed to be thought about, planned, even if spontaneity was fun.

He plastered a little fake smile to his face, passing some of the children that lived with him. It was funny. None of the adults saw him as being strange but the children, even if he didn't know them, knew that he was different about him; he was not to be trusted. They stayed away, moving into their own little packs. _Like the Careers,_ he thought, _they would be fun to take down._

Taking a glance around the kitchen, he sat down, a long way from everything else. This year he would do it, play in the Games. Not like last time when a boy had beaten him to it. The only volunteer that District 11 had had in years and it had to be the same year that he had wanted to volunteer. Still, that boy had died on the third day, killed by gray robots that seemed to scream 'delete' and other stupid phrases.

The sun was shining bright, making Milo grimace. Another drought day for District 11 where everyone had to worry about food and water. But for Milo, it would hopefully be his last.

* * *

**Fig Cress, 14 years old. **

Fig smiled, glad for the day off. Being the harvest time of the year, they did so much more work than normal, but, being reaping day, they got it off. Fig had decided to do some exploring, leaving her older brother and sister to look after her youngest sibling, Poplyn. Her older sister had looked fine about it but her brother had scowled, muttering something about spending time with his girlfriend.

She walked through the fields, happy in the sunshine. Here she was hoping that she would meet her friend, Lark, who always lazed around in the sun. Unlike her, he didn't like adventure, but he would always tag along. She passed further through the fields, pressing her pack against her back and humming slightly. Finally, in a small hollowed out area sat Lark, lying on the ground.

"Hey, how long you been here?" she asked, pulling the bag off her back and setting it down.

He got up into a sitting position shrugged, "A while, I'm just doing some sunbathing. You know, in case the worst happens."

She settled down next to him and opened her bag. Pulling out two rolls, she handed one to him and he smiled, his brown eyes lighting up. "Thanks."

The two ate in silence, comfortable in each other's company. Fig could taste the cheese, extremely strong but extremely satisfying. Fig was never full but their family had enough to live by and with her brother going out with the mayor's daughter, they were a little better off. She loved her brother, Glade, even if he was sometimes moody and scowled quite a bit.

After they had finished, Fig got to her feet and gazed at the sky. "We should do some exploring!"

Lark rolled his eyes, pushing himself to his feet. "Nah, girl, let's just stay here."

She rolled her eyes, "Come on Lark, this could be our last chance."

He scowled, a face a lot like her brothers, and finally nodded, stretching his legs. He gave her a playful nudge as she collected her stuff. They moved out, sticking close to each other as they travelled. Fig had heard stories of wild animals attacking and dragging people off in the middle of the night or in a deserted area. Fig had no experience with weapons or with fighting. If anything was to happen then she would be utterly stuffed. Waiting prey. _It must be awful for tributes in the arena,_ she thought, more trees clouding around them as they went in deeper.

A noise shot through the silent forest and they both stopped. "What was that?" Lark asked, his voice agitated.

Fig took a step forward and Lark grabbed her. "What are you doing?" Lark said, his eyes wide with fear.

"I'm curious, besides, it sounded like a call of pain," she responded, gently unclasping his fingers from her arm. He gave her a worried look and continued on behind her as she moved further and further in.

Finally they reached the source of the noise and Fig exclaimed a sound of shock. Lark peeked his eyes over her shoulders and looked down at a small baby fox that was stuck in some sort of trap. She rushed over, trying to pull the mewling creature away from the trap. Suddenly an arrow shot past her head, embedding itself in the undergrowth. Fig gasped and glanced upwards at two boys crouched in a tree. The first was 18, long brown hair swept in a ponytail with his hands on a bow. The other was 16, a cat-like frame with his long fingers clutching at a crossbow.

The younger one fell from the tree, dropping gracefully onto the ground. He positioned himself between the fox and Fig. The other boy followed, pointing the bow at Lark.

"And what do you think you're doing, little missy?" the younger one asked, his blue eyes darting from her to Lark.

"The fox, its hurt," Fig responded, her brows creasing up.

The younger boy nodded, his eyes becoming disinterested. "Obviously, though we would have preferred a kill instead of a wounded. It's not fair to let creatures suffer."

"You did this," she demanded, a red rising in her cheeks.

He nodded, "Of course, we need the food. Me and Bruce here don't get much so we have to hunt. Understand?"

"But a baby fox?" she asked, looking down at the poor creature. She gave him a fierce scowl and he laughed lightly.

"It's our survival or theirs, missy. I would prefer ours," he responded, "Bruce, kill it." The other boy, Bruce, pulled an arrow out his quiver and positioned it, moving it from Lark to the fox. Glaring at the younger boy, she tried to push him away, to get the fox out the way and save it. The younger boy grabbed her, clutching her tight as the arrow was shot into the creature. She elbowed him, too late, and he gasped as she ran over to the little dead body. Another life lost, even if it was only a fox cub.

Bruce carefully pushed her away, his eyes expressing sympathy for her as he picked the body up and walked away. "Look, little missy, we all have to be predators, otherwise we die." And with that the two of them left, leaving Lark to hold her.

* * *

**Milo Anthony Ferrell, 13 years old.**

Milo lined up with all the children his age. They all stunk of sweat and other messes. He grimaced, his gray eyes distant once more. He would do it. No one would stop him. He wiped the sweat off his face, the sun glaring at them all. His pale skin was starting to redden. Something Milo wasn't a fan off.

At last the escort wobbled on stage, her body like a stick. Her eyes were wide, filling up a lot of her face while pink make up was applied everywhere. Her nails were absurdly long and they clicked against the microphone. The only victor, Viktor, was slumped in one of the chairs, his wild black hair obscuring his face. Like Milo, he looked nothing like an average District 11 citizen. The two Capitol children followed. Both were quite young, a boy and a girl. Milo cursed under his breath; he'd be looking after a little kid.

The male was the same age as him with brown hair that had one thick streak of gold in it. He wore a playful smile and a green and gold getup. The girl was a year older, chocolate coloured skin and warm green eyes. However she stared at the escort with a look of disgust.

The escort clicked her fingers on the microphone again and the crowd fell silent. "Welcome, District 11. I am your host, Grace, and I am happy to celebrate this occasion with you," Grace said before starting her speech on the Hunger Games, smiling to herself.

Milo's nostrils flared slightly as he waited. Finally she dug her hands into the reaping bowl, her nails mixing up all the names. Picking out a name, she held it up and opened it out. "Richard Luthor," she announced and a 16 year old made his way to the front. He didn't look happy but he had an air of confidence to him.

"Any volunteers?" Grace asked, looking around.

Without saying anything, Milo moved from his seat and walked towards the stage. Th escort looked on in confusion as he reached the top of the stage and directed Richard off. "I'm Milo Anthony Ferrell," he said as the male Capitol child stood next to him.

"Loki," the Capitol child said, a playful smile coming to his lips. Milo brushed him off. He didn't need help to win these Games.

* * *

**Fig Cress, 14 years old. **

Fig watched Richard exit the stage, his eyes narrowed. That had been the boy with the crossbow, she was sure of it. She looked over to Lark who had exhaled, glad for that to be over. He motioned over to the boy and Lark nodded, his eyes scrunched up.

Fig turned her attention back to the escort who had picked out a female name. Fig took a glance at her unnatural nails and almost puked; they looked revolting. In her squeaky voice she read out a name. "Fig Cress!"

She stopped as Lark's eyes widened in shock. Without making a sound, she timidly went forward to the stage, tears starting to roll down her face. She tried to stop them to no avail; they kept coming, pouring onto the floor. Each step felt like a mountain as she tried to climb them and she nearly fell, only held up by Viktor who had actually gotten up. The boy was 19, winning the Games when he was only 12.

She reached the stage and the Capitol girl gripped her shoulder, her smile beaming at her though her eyes mingled with pity and sympathy. "Come on," the girl whispered, "It won't be long now, and then we'll get some hot chocolate. I'm Camilla, by the way."

Fig relaxed slightly at the sound of the girls calming voice. She listened for volunteers but there were none. As they were concluding she looked over to Milo who was smiling only slightly. He was happy. How strange.


	14. District 12: Sparks Fly

**So, the final reaping. Its been fun writing these and I look forward to the capitol chapters and then the arena! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed and I am hoping that you'll love this chapter as I had more to work with. I have also updated the tribute list with the age of the tributes and I didn't realise that most of them were either 17 or 14. But I'm too lazy to change the ages now. We also made it to 100! Wooooo!**

**Thanks to Holly Blossom and DizzyPotter for these awesome tributes. Review guys.**

* * *

**Kynn Lowell, 14 years old. **

Kynn groaned and rolled over to one side. His stomach did a backflip making him feel queasy and uneasy. Today was going to be terrible, Kynn could just tell. Downstairs he could hear one of his brothers stomping around. Most probably Lyle. He grimaced. He didn't want to see that brother, not today. Turning so that he was on his back, he looked up at the mucky ceiling. It had been a long time since anyone had cleaned it. However in District 12, people tended not to worry about how clean things looked.

Finally he stumbled out of bed, landing on the hard floor. They were 'lucky' in some respects that they had a house with two levels instead of a squishy bungalow which only had 2 rooms. His other brother, Milligan, passed by him once he was in the corridor, his slender fingers tapping against his hip.

He walked through to the kitchen slowly, a cramped room with a stove against one side of the room. Smoke poured out from it but Kynn had got used to it. At least it didn't make as much smog as their last house did, and that had ended up being burnt down.

Lyle was already sat at the table, his smug gaze following his mother around the room. Milligan was stood, shifting through the cupboards, trying to find something to eat. Kynn sat; far away from where Lyle was sitting, avoiding his gaze. "We've got nothing," Milligan said finally, breaking the silence.

"What do you mean we've got nothing?" Lyle asked, his voice betraying a smudge of anger.

"We've got no food, what do you think?" Milligan said, shutting the cupboard door closed. He slumped in a chair, his mop of brown hair framing his oval face.

"Then you'll have to go out and sign up for your tesserae and we'll be alright," Lyle said, giving Milligan a sneer.

"Me? I've taken enough out. Thinking about it, me and Kynn have both taken out loads. It's your turn," Milligan said, turning to Kynn for support. Kynn gave out a quick nod, breathing out a shaky breath. Kynn hated opposing Lyle; Lyle would get him back later, he was sure of it. And frankly, kicks and punches from Lyle hurt.

"Oh, is it now? It's my final year and so I'm the most likely to be picked, this means that I don't need my name in the bowl another time. If I took tersserae today and got picked, it would be your fault, you know?" Lyle said, his fists clenching.

"What? My name is in the bowl as much as you and I'm only 16 years old. Go and sign up Lyle," Milligan spat, shooting to his feet. Lyle followed quickly, going face to face with his brother. Kynn looked between them, his silvery eyes darting between them. His eyes glanced at his mother who was doing nothing to get between them. She knew she couldn't control Lyle, and she would only get herself hurt if she intervened.

"You better apologise for speaking to me this way, Milligan. Don't forget who's in charge when father isn't at home," Lyle said, towering over Milligan. His fist shot out, catching Milligan in the jaw. He stumbled back, grabbing the chair for support. He landed a kick in Lyle's stomach but Lyle gathered himself up quickly, on his feet in seconds. Milligan tried to punch again but Lyle charged at him, slamming him against the wall. Kynn could only watch as the two briefly grappled and scuffled, Lyle finally landing a blow on Milligan's stomach. Grabbing his neck, Lyle pushed Milligan against the wall, holding him there.

"You going to apologise, Milligan?" Lyle sneered, his hand closing around Milligan's neck. Kynn's heart was in his throat, pumping so hard. _Lyle wouldn't kill him, surely?_

"Never," Milligan said between gasps of air, his face draining of colour.

Lyle chuckled and applied more pressure. Kynn had to stop him but he was scared, so scared that his brother would turn on him. That Lyle would do the same and Kynn would be another lifeless body. Kynn glanced to his mother, his eyes pleading with her to do something. She watched on, helpless, letting Lyle do what he wanted.

Milligan's breaths became shallower and he made a noise somewhere between a grunt and a gasp. Lyle released him and he fell to the floor, sucking in huge lungful's of air. "Beg for my mercy," Lyle said, seeming to get some sick pleasure out of the whole situation.

Milligan looked up to him, tears glistening in the corners of his eyes. "Lyle…please, please" he murmured, his hands rubbing his neck.

Lyle gave out a cocky chuckle before ruffling Milligan's hair. "Now go on, go sign up for your tesserae," Lyle said, smirking as Milligan got up. Lyle waltzed out of the room, leaving the two brothers and their mother to a dismal silence.

Kynn quickly got up and rushed to Milligan's side. "Are you okay? I should have done something, I'm so sorry, I just…I just couldn't and, and," Kynn said, his words mixing up as they tumbled out of his mouth. Milligan gave Kynn a small smile and steadied himself. Kynn looked up to Milligan so much and to see him like this hurt Kynn more than he could say.

Ruffling Kynn's hair lightly (very differently to how Lyle had done it), he walked out the room, the door slamming a few seconds later.

His mother sat next to Kynn, holding his hands in hers. "Don't worry. He'll be okay," she whispered as Kynn could feel tears threatening to spill out of his eyes. His mother shushed him, pulling him into a hug with her dainty arms. He hugged back, wishing that Lyle was so much nicer and that his father was home from the mines, away from danger.

* * *

**Elly Potter, 14 years old. **

"The Games have never been fair for District 12, not since Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark got captured and killed by the Capitol," Bonnie said, leaning against the not-electrified fence. The others nodded, Elly included. The Capitol seemed to view District 12 like it was run by barbarians and Elly had seen the number of increased Peacekeepers patrolling around. The Capitol was making sure that this Quarter Quell didn't go as badly as the last.

"You seen Haymitch?" Taylor asked, her voice getting lower.

The girls shook their heads, looking at each other with excited but suspicious eyes. "I have but only briefly. I tell you what, he looks much older than he did on the execution of the Mockingjay," Kathy said, to Vivienne's eye rolling.

"Of course he does, that was around 24-25 years ago," Vivienne said haughtily, "He'd be around 66 years old now if I have counted correctly."

Elly nodded. She'd also seen glimpses of Haymitch. And she knew, along with most of the District, that he wasn't mentoring very well anymore as most of their tributes died in the Bloodbath. Elly remembered that just a year ago one of their class mates, Sedge Woodhead, had been reaped for the Games. All of them had to watch him get killed during class. There had been much vomit on the floor afterwards along with many teary faces. Sedge had been much loved in class.

"_Anyway,"_ said Taylor, _"I was doing the early morning shopping, you know, before the peacekeepers were up and I see Haymitch yelling, a broken bottle in his hands. Peacekeepers were restraining at him as the two Capitol children are screaming bloody murder. The boy, think his name was Julius or something, had a large open gash running along his face, missing his right eye by millimetres as the female is trying to claw Haymitch's face with her nails. He's screaming, 'you shouldn't have killed them, everyone I've ever love has died, etc.' and the two of them are having a go back at him, 'you're a shit mentor' etc. It was mental, you should have seen it!"_

The group sat in a shocked silence, digesting all this information. Normally now a days, Haymitch appeared subdued in front of the cameras, not too far away from a drink and always reflecting on his losses. None of them had seen him so angry before.

"You think this year our tribute will win?" Elly asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Probably not," Nathalia said, sighing. Elly knew that Nathalia was worried for her twin Bonnie and that Bonnie was worried for her. The two of them would do terrible without each other.

"What should we do now?" Kathy asked, flicking her hair.

"Fruit picking," Bonnie said.

"Plant gathering," Nathalia exclaimed.

"Fine, we'll do both, check for Peacekeepers, I'll go first," Elly said, nimbly climbing over the fence and jumping onto the plush grass on the other side. Taylor jumped after her, landing gracefully like a cat. It took Vivienne a little time but the twins were quick, copying Elly's movements.

The five of them headed into the meadow, not daring going past the first few trees in the forest. The group had no weapons and even if they did, they had no idea how to use them. Elly could pick heavy things up and throw them but that was the furthest her skills went. Elly examined some of the plants, only really knowing what some of them were. She found some dandelions and picked those, stuffing them in a canvas shoulder bag that she had. Along with this they found some wild berries which Bonnie picked out, knowing that they were not only safe but tasty as well.

As the sun was high in the sky, the five decided that it was time that they went home, to get ready for the dreaded reaping. Splitting the findings into five equal shares, Elly made her way home alone. She reached the shack that served its purpose for a family of 10 and opened the door into chaos. Her mother and father were running after her siblings and the older ones were trying to help out. Her mother immediately jerked her thumb to the bath and closing the bathroom door, she quickly washed and changed.

She found a dyed purple dress and slipped it on. It was something that had belonged to her older sister Bertha who was much too big for it. Her younger brother, Isaac, used the water after, his face pale from the fear of his first reaping. Elly leaned against the wall, glaring down at the dress. She hated the way she looked, skinny, underfed, with only a few curves. The dress was beautiful but on her it looked frumpy, looking more like a bag than a dress.

At long last the household had managed to get into some sort of order and they all left together, arms around each other for comfort. Elly grabbed Isaac's hand, clutching it to give him support. He shot her a grateful look and they finally reached the plaza and the hell that waited beyond.

* * *

**Kynn Lowell, 14 years old. **

Kynn looked fearfully over to Lyle who was among the 18 year olds, grinning like a jackal. His eyes skipped over to Milligan who was emotionless, bruises visible around his neck. Kynn had heard people ask about them this morning and Milligan had answered truthfully. However no one tried to confront Lyle. Everyone was too scared.

The escort trotted on stage, a Miss Effie Trinket, in her pink hairdo. Apart from aging (or not due to Capitol surgery) she looked much the same as the last Quarter Quell videos that Kynn had seen. Videos made Kynn groan, he'd always prefer a good book like the ones Milligan still read to him at night.

Following on from her was Haymitch, dragged on by several Peacekeepers. He gave the capitol children an intense glare of hatred as they followed. Kynn raised an eyebrow. A massive stitched scar was visible on the boy's face. He had a sneer on his perfect face, but it was one for Haymitch and not the District. The girl seemed to be trying to soothe him, grabbing his hand and holding it, dragging him to a spot away from the half-drunk mentor.

The girl was pretty, flawless even with naturally clean skin and brown hair cropped in a cute style. She looked a bit like a pixie, her blue eyes bubbling with both passion and curiosity. She was beautiful without trying, without that capitol makeup and she wore a dress decorated with flowers.

"Happy Hunger Games, District 12. And may the odds be _ever _in your favour," Effie said, her voice bubbly but with an underline of tiredness, as if she was too old to be doing this job. However as she introduced the Capitol children, Julius and Elizabeth, she seemed much happier.

"So, males first for a change," she said, casting a glance at Haymitch. Haymitch gave her a dark look, one which seemed to say, _more tributes and they'll die under my watch. _It was a known fact that Haymitch had tried to commit suicide more than once since the 'incident.'

Finally she picked out a name and clearing her throat, she announced, "Kynn Lowell!"

Kynn paled as she called his name, his world crashing down. Shaking more violently by the moment, Kynn slowly moved forwards, the crowds parting for him. He heard an objection from Milligan ring around the plaza but Kynn continued, feeling sick to his stomach. Finally reaching the stage, Effie gave him a welcome look as Haymitch's eyes roamed over him. He knew that he wasn't rebellion material and no use. Haymitch looked away, shaking his head only slightly.

Julius stood next to him and Kynn felt a twinge of intimidation. The scar, the broad shoulders and wild auburn hair made him feel small even though Julius was only his age.

"And now for the females."

* * *

**Elly Potter, 14 years old.**

Elly stared at Julius, thinking back to Taylor's story. She could see that Elizabeth was still trying to calm Julius down, rubbing his arm gently with her fingers. He seemed to have cooled down a bit, and casting a glance at the male tribute, his eyes lit with a mixture of interest, anger and kindness. Julius whispered something to Kynn which made him crack a slight smile even though he was close to tears.

Elly worried for her family, glad that Isaac had his first reaping out the way and that her other siblings wouldn't be picked.

Effie went over to the reaping bowl, picking out a small silver slip. A silver slip, shinning in the sunlight, a different colour from normal because of the Quarter Quell.

"And the female tribute is Elly Potter!"

She stopped, breathing out slowly. On one hand, she was happy that her family were safe, even at the cost of her own life. On the other hand, she was _freaking the hell out_ and definitely didn't want to die. _Look on the bright side, _she told herself, walking to the podium, her fingers digging into her palms.

Elizabeth came towards her as she ascended the steps and gave her a loving smile, as if she was happy that she was here. Elly nodded and smiled back, following Elizabeth to her spot.

As Elly shook hands with Kynn's, which were covered with sweat, she shot him a smile. He seemed worried, but a little more determined now and Elly thought he might be okay to ally with. Now it was strategy time.

"And this concludes the reapings! I'll be seeing you all at the Capitol," Effie roared, her voice bouncing throughout the plaza and back at the Capitol among the numerous homes waiting for the bloodshed.


	15. Collars and Trains

**So here is the first Capitol chapter. From now on I'm going to be mixing up the tributes POV's. Whoever's POV depends on who I think fits the chapter best. I'm hoping to get all the POV's of the tributes in the Capitol chapters. Also sorry the chapter took so long, my computer has been having issues.**

**Thanks for all the reviews and keep them coming. :)**

* * *

**Darson Markson, District 3.**

Darson was practically thrown into the bullet train by his overexcited escort, Pineapple. He shook his head, placing one hand on the cool wall. This was where they would be spending the rest of today and tomorrow morning. He grimaced, watching as Pineapple marvelled at the glass chandelier overhead. To Darson, that seemed more of a danger than something that demanded respect and awe. But then again, the Capitol was the same and so he shook the thoughts away.

Brielle followed in after him, her blonde hair swirling around her face. She looked confused now, her fear vanishing as she had spotted the train. Darson turned back, his eyes narrowing as he spotted his Capitol child, Baron. Not that he was much of a child. He had a wiry body with sandy blonde hair that framed his thin face. His nose twitched slightly as he staggered through the doorway.

Finally, once Phosphorus had made his way into the train, the doors closed with laser sound effects, and the train started to move. Not that you could feel it. The train ran smoothly, leaving the District behind.

Darson watched it drift further and further away, what could be his last glimpse of the District. For a few moments he sat in silence, listening to the sound of Pineapple lecturing the others on fashion when the door swung open and the two mentors burst into the room.

"Beetee, Alexis, how wonderful that you could be here," Pineapple exclaimed, gesturing towards them both.

Beetee nodded, his face wrinkled and creased with age, and sat on one of the chairs. Alexis gave out a quick salute, sitting next to him. She shifted the headphones slightly; big black ones that filled her neck. Darson's eyes flicked towards the package that Beetee held. Somehow he knew that whatever was in it wasn't good.

Placing the package on the desk, Baron shifted next to him, surprisingly quiet for someone so tall. All four of the teenagers leaned in closer, breath stopping in their throats. The latch was flipped open and inside there were….

Collars. Four sleek metal collars.

"That's it?" Phosphorus asked, raising a plucked eyebrow. Beetee gave out the hint of a smile though he looked down at them with a sort of sadness, buried deep inside him.

"_Yes, that is it. They are not quite what they seem thought. They monitor heart rate among other stats and bits and bobs. I won't go into it for the sake of your brain power," _he said, picking one up, _"You see this here. That little 'M' and the '3.' There are only two collars with that on, these two. Those two collars are also linked and packed with explosives. If the heart rate goes down to zero once worn, that will send a signal to the exact replica of that collar and it will detonate that collar, killing anything that is wearing it." _

"Let me guess, we have to wear these," Baron asked, his eyes dark.

Beetee nodded slowly, "Yes. These are the collars for you and Darson. The 'M' stands for male tribute and the 3 stands for your District, District 3."

"The Capitol has asked that you wear these collars at all time, with the exception of the interview and chariot race," Alexis added, passing a collar to Darson.

His hands traced the rim, the cool metal against his skin. As soon as he'd finished, the collar popped open so he could wear it. "Why?" he asked, speaking for the first time since he'd sat in the Justice Building with his parents and his little sister, Mara. He remembered hugging her tight, promising his return. She didn't understand.

Alexis shrugged, passing another collar to Baron. Darson watched him carefully. Baron looked down at the collar in disgust, his own eyes narrowing. "It's so we can be paraded around like dogs for their amusement," Baron said, his voice tinged with anger.

Phosphorus and Brielle had both picked up on this as well. "I don't know why you're so angry. All the Capitol kids signed up to join the Games. We had a reaping but for volunteers, it was awesome."

Darson gaped at the two of them. They volunteered to be here. All the Capitol children were volunteers. Darson's eyes dragged over Brielle. She looked like she was going to be sick. "I never put my name down. I don't want to be here," Baron said, glaring at Phosphorus.

"Puh-lease, everyone put their name down," Phosphorus said.

Baron's glare seemed to intensify, "I _never_ put my name down. My parents did against my wishes."

Everyone quietened, the silence deafening, all eyes on Baron. "What do you mean your parents did it?" Brielle asked, leaning against a plush green sofa.

He gave out a sigh, one filled with both anger and exasperation. When he spoke, his voice was laced with betrayal, "I have four brothers and sisters, all of which signed up for the Games. I did not. To my father, that was a shame, a disgrace. We argued over it but I was adamant, I did not want to be part of it. It was 'reaping day' and my name was called out. Confused I went to the front and looking down on everyone, my eyes met my fathers. He was grinning. His eyes were hungry. He winked at me like this was some sick joke. Betrayed. By my own family."

He looked away and Darson sat down, digesting everything. Darson didn't doubt that it was true. He could see the way Baron looked, the way he spoke about it, it was true. Phosphorus was quiet now, his eyes confused. Darson flinched as someone touched the back of his hand. Looking up, Alexis smiled gently, taking the collar from him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered as the collar clipped around his neck. For a few moments he felt like he was suffocating, choking madly. Eventually the feeling cleared, his skin crawling under the feel of cold metal.

Beetee helped Baron with his while the two others were helped by Pineapple. "I better clear this up. You tamper with it and it'll explode automatically. No ifs, no buts," Beetee said.

"What happens if it gets hit by someone or something else?" Brielle asked, grabbing one of the cushions.

"That is different. It is only if you try and dismantle it yourself that it'll explode," Beetee answered.

She nodded, moving slightly closer to Darson. He could see her fear was back again, making every bone in her body shake. His mouth twitched up a little, the most of a smile he could make in this situation and she returned it, still shaking.

"Hold on, so if I die, so does Brielle. But if she dies, I die as well? I thought that it was only connected one way. I thought if she dies, I got to carry on," Phosphorus said, his brows creasing in confusion.

"I'm sorry but it's a two way street," Alexis said harshly, looking at Brielle who was trying to hold herself together. Darson knew she was a strong girl, she had got through the reaping without crying but seeing her family, her two brothers, must have shaken her.

Baron practically fell into the sofa chair, his face now with a mixed look of both tiredness and regret. Darson scanned over the Capitol boy. He looked good enough, willing to stand up for himself and he seemed to have a cool air about him. As if he was analysing other people all of the time. He could see their similarities too and the boy looked down at himself, his face impassive.

"I'm going to change shirts," he suddenly announced, "Purple isn't my colour."

* * *

**Morganya Narda Titan, District 5.**

For Morganya, the train was the most amazing thing she had ever seen. The front had been painted with the symbol of the District along with cogs and gears in different sizes. The sun had shone down on them, making them sparkle a beautiful gold colour. Inside was even more amazing. Velvet covered walls, spongy carpet, solid sofas and masses of cushions, creating the colours of the rainbow. Small windows peeked out into the beyond. Food, brilliantly smelling food, was set out along one side. All this in one room. Morganya couldn't wait to check out the rest.

Morganya watched as Octavian crept into in the room and marvelled at it all, shaking still. She frowned, he was still scared. Lysander had followed in afterwards, his eyes wide as he looked at Octavian. Morganya hid a smile with her hand, his facial expression was priceless.

A hand tapped her on the back and she whizzed around, pivoting on her heels. Titania gave out a little smile. She was a twelve year old, like Morganya herself. Her pink hair stuck out at all angles, like she had put her finger in a plug socket, but she had a cheery smile that lit up her face. Her lips were pink, extremely pink but her eyes were gold. _Just like the train_, she thought.

"Like I said, I'm Titania. I was named after this play my mother loves. She used to read it to me every night," Titania said, her voice happy, if a little nervous, "Mother said that if I win these games, they'll let her act again. She got chucked out from acting, something about sniffing something. I don't understand why she would get chucked out for that."

Morganya patted Titania on the shoulders as Lysander walked over, stuffing some chocolate bread into his mouth. "You alright kids?" he asked.

Morganya nodded as Titania gave him a wide smile. Compared to Titania, Lysander looked relatively normal with his long dirty blonde hair and a sharp nose that defined him. A blue star was tattooed onto his left palm.

"_There sleeps Titania sometime of the night. Lull'd in these flowers with dances and delight," _Titania then said, looking at them both with a wide smile.

"Please don't quote anything from that play or my head will explode. I've listened to it enough at school and I think I might just go insane if I hear anymore. Besides, you don't even know what that means, do you?" Lysander asked, massaging his temples.

"Nope," she responded before walking off.

At last, the group were educated on the collars, mostly with a mixture of excitement and disgust. Disgust definitely coming from her end. Clipping the collar on, she felt a sense of dread, one which had been creeping up on her since her name had been drawn. A week, in a week's time she would be in the arena, fighting for her life. She wiped her eyes, she didn't want to think about it.

Her parents, they were back at home. _They were wondering how they would cope, how they would survive. Maybe they were wondering how she would survive. How would she survive?_

Her thoughts then went to Holin. She would be alone now, hoping that Morganya was coming back. She had come to see her at the Justice Building, to wish her luck. But she didn't want luck, she wanted to be back at home, watching the re-caps with no fear of dying. She wouldn't even mind seeing her archenemy, Bolonda, even if they were to send daggers at each other. Daggers, swords, slings, weapons. She'd never been trained with weapons. She couldn't hold anything heavy. She wasn't strong.

Titania looked like she couldn't be any better but maybe she had secret skills. Looking at her, Morganya doubted it. Their escort, Felix, switched on the TV and the group settled down, her shoulders relaxing slightly. She squished herself in between Titania and Lysander, trying to avoid both Octavian and one of the mentors, Vincent. Vincent sat alone on one of the chairs, his eyes dark, haunted. There was something spooky about him and his gray shirt rippled slightly as he moved. His face was deathly pale, almost hidden as he pulled up the hood on his black hooded jacket.

Octavian also scared her, he seemed freakishly scared himself and almost…untrustworthy. If he asked for an alliance with her, she'd say no. However, she'd say no to any alliance unless she _really _found someone she liked.

The re-cap started and Morganya's eyes flicked through them. District 1 seemed a mix bag for a change. One typical Career and the other, some crazy girl. However, Morganya could tell that she would still be a Career, no matter what state she was in. District 2 looks vicious. District 3 looked like they could handle themselves. District 4 were more Careers thought the male looked pained so perhaps he wouldn't join after all.

Then it was their District and Morganya watched herself go on stage. She looked calm, weirdly calm, but she was pleased with it. Hopefully the Capitol would think that she could handle herself. Maybe she might get a few sponsors. The group watched Octavian's frightened display. Morganya pursed her lips as she watched him, a mix of pity and anxiety. Her eyes turn to him in real life and his expression is blank. Silent.

It carried on. District 6 looked like another mixed bag. A strong male but a weaker female. District 7 were different. The female looked strong, even if unstable but the male looked worried, glancing over to her and her Capitol counterpart. District 8's female was strange, that was to say the least, and she seemed to not quite able comprehend what was going on, even if she did volunteer. The boy was nervous, but a bit idiotic, volunteering at the age of 12. District 9 had a strong female but a weak male, another small boy for the chop. District 10's boy was interesting, giving a Peacekeeper a broken nose as he was then carted to the front. The Careers would be watching him, Morganya could tell. The girl was also tough, her body looking more male than female, but she had an air of strength and courage. District 11 zoomed by, a creepy boy and nice girl. Finally 12, with two tributes and their famous mentor.

The full force of the Games hit Morganya as the Capitol symbol lit up the screen. This was it, she would be fighting each and every one of them for the top spot. She had seen the competition and now it was time for her to get her Games on. Staggering onto her feet, she passed the others and went through to her room, as amazingly decorated as the others, and flopped onto the silken bed.

Perhaps tomorrow would be better.


	16. Mixed Emotions

**Okay guys, with the return of school, I've had a busy week or so and that is the reason why this is so late. This means that chapters should come about once a week from now on (if they weren't already). Thanks for all the brilliant reviews and I'm so glad that you're all really enjoying this. Keep them coming :)**

* * *

**Alexandria Raves, District 4.**

"Alex, come on Alex, get up," a voice spoke to her softly, lyrically. She grunted, twitching her nose slightly. A hand shook her shoulders and groaning, she dragged herself from her dream. Looking down at her were two bright green eyes. Unnaturally bright green eyes. For a moment she thought that she was still in the dream but looking around, she saw that this was no dream, this was reality. It took her a few moments to recognize who was stood in front of her.

"Nero, what are you doing here?" she asked and he gave out a gentle smile.

"What do you think? It's chariot day if you remember and everyone's already at breakfast, you're late," he responded, his eyes gazing over her. He didn't look at her like most boys did, his gaze was cool, non-judgemental.

She groaned, her hand going to her neck. She hadn't gotten over the collars yet, feeling constantly choked by them. Nero on the other hand didn't seem to mind but, then again, he didn't mind about most things. For a Capitol kid, he was nice, full of support. When she'd had a breakdown in the train after they'd left, he had sat with her, gently soothing her. He was a good guy.

She grimaced at the idea of the chariot parade, "Fun. And did you know that you can scare people with those eyes of yours?"

"Hey, don't take it out on me because we have to get dressed up. And besides, my eyes mean a lot," he said, giving her a chuckle and putting his hands up in submission.

Crossing her legs, she cocked her head slightly. "How do they mean a lot?" she asked.

"They show which family I'm from. There are, like, seven main families situated in the Capitol and all of them have symbols or features to show who they are. I belong to the Romanoff family, so, the green eyes," he said, pointing to his eyes.

"Are they real or surgery?" she asked.

"Surgery, unfortunately," he said, "Now come on, Zia said she'd kick my ass if you don't get down there soon."

"Scared of our escort?" she queried.

He gave her a comical scowl, "Nah, more scared of our mentor." Alex could understand that, Annie was kind of freaky. She'd had a mental breakdown at least twice since they had got on the train. It had freaked everyone out and they'd had sedated her the second time, so fat chance that they would get any proper training. Also, she'd attacked Briar, an accident, during one of her mood swings. Alex had a mixture of pity and fear for the woman.

With his last sentence, Nero left, casting a glance behind him as he shut the door. Rolling her eyes, she didn't even bother to shower, knowing that the prep team would fix her up. Digging through some clothes in the wardrobe, she finally found something. It was a simple blue t-shirt and trousers, with a pair of canvas shoes.

Trotting down the stairs, she opened the door into a dining room connected to a spacious lounge. Zia sat at the head of the table and gave her a sour look as she entered. Annie Cresta sat at the other end, her eyes distant. Jared, her District partner, slouched in one of the chairs. Briar sat next to him, not at all interested.

Nero smirked as she dropped into the chair next to him. "You're in trouble," he whispered, his eyes gazing over to Zia.

Before she had anytime to retort, Zia's sour expression intensified. "And what time do you call this?" she asked.

"Um, half nine by my watch," she answered. She heard a small chuckle escape from Nero. Apparently Zia heard this as well and turning to him, she gave him the ultimate death stare. Biting into his bottom lip, Nero turned away, trying not to burst out laughing.

"And, do you know what day it is today?" she asked, pronouncing each syllable as if she were talking to simpletons.

"It's the chariot parade or something," she replied.

Zia nodded, "Yes, and now I only have 5 minutes to go through things with you before you meet the prep team. So, next time, I recommend that you get up a little earlier, understand?"

Alex nodded, suppressing the need to roll her eyes. Zia continued, "This year there will be 24 chariots, not 12. They think it will be easier to see the tribute and their Capitol partner. The tribute and the Capitol partner will be dressed similarly and in keeping with the District."

"That sounds brilliant," Jared murmured, his blue eyes sweeping the room. There was something deeply intimidating about him, not that Alex would ever say that out loud. Silence hung in the air as Jared spoke and finally, Zia coughed, motioning for them all to get up. As she pushed in her chair, Zia lead the way through the floor until they all entered a small elevator, leaving Annie back on floor 4.

As they descended through the floors, Zia explained why it would be best to leave Annie alone. They didn't need her freaking out and losing control. As they landed, they piled out into a large gray corridor. Zia pointed towards different ends of the corridor. "Jared and Briar, that way," Zia said, jerking her thumb towards one end.

As they left, she pointed the other way, "You two that way. And don't be so cheeky next time."

The two of them gave polite smiles as they left, waltzing down the corridor. "That was close," Nero said, giving her a grin as they walked. Alex laughed, casting one last glance behind her.

They reached what they resumed was their door and slowly opened it. Five figures burst through, ushering them inside. There was a babble of sound, high voices, excited. Two of them grabbed Nero and ushered him through a different door, leaving her to three strangely dressed Capitol women.

It was going to be a weird day, that was for sure.

* * *

**Luke Kripac, District 8.**

Luke lifted up one of his arms again. It must have been the fourth time in the last ten minutes. They measured his arm length and around his stomach. His whole body ached, a constant dull pain. He just wanted to sit down and rest. One of the prep team passed him, holding a bag full of lotions and sponges. Tens upon tens of different bottles, many of which he couldn't even understand.

He looked over to where his bathrobe had been discarded. He felt weird without it on, innocent and scared. One of the prep team settled him down in another chair and applied some cream. Wiping his hands afterwards, the man walked backwards and admired him. Trying to get rid of the urge to cover himself, Luke looked back. He didn't know the guy's name. They had all talked at such a fast pace that he didn't know who was who. One of them looked a lot like a human wolf hybrid. That didn't exactly give Luke confidence.

"Ok, we'll bring in the stylist," one of them said, and one by one they left. Luke glanced around the room, his eyes flicking over all the little bottles. What was the stylist like? Would he have to wear a stupid costume? What would the sponsors think? What would his father think?

His mind drifted back to his father. He had volunteered to get his father's affection. Hopefully he would be watching. But the sad part was that he hadn't even come to wish Luke goodbye back at the Justice Building. Beth, his twin sister, had assured him that his father hadn't been able to make it but it still made him uneasy. Thoughts of the goodbyes made him feel guilty. His neighbour and only friend, Mrs Houston, had come to visit him, bringing him cookies. He wished that she wasn't disappointed with him. She hadn't said she was disappointed but Luke could see it in her eyes. Her eyes were a mixture of disappointment, pity and fear.

The door opened and a keenly dressed man stepped in. He looked almost normal if you ignored the cape, top hat and monocle. "Greetings, young fellow, I am Scorpious and I am your stylist," he said, leaning forward and shaking Luke's hand firmly.

Luke nodded twice, his palms feeling sticky with sweat. He put a large canvas knapsack on the nearby table and pulled out several designs and materials. "So, here are the plans for your outfit," he said, motioning Luke over. Grabbing the bathrobe, he put it on and waddled over.

"These are the designs," he said again, pouring over several pieces of paper. Many rough sketches of a boy dressed in some suits and other items of clothing were visible.

"They haven't been made yet?" he asked, a little alarmed. The chariot parade was tonight.

"Oh, they have. I thought it would be nice to look at these before you put your garments on, see?" he said, smiling and clicking several buttons on a small machine. The modern machine and old fashioned man somehow didn't seem to look right in Luke's head and so he shook the thoughts away.

On the table, a roast chicken and cans of pop appeared, seemingly coming out of nowhere. Luke jumped slightly and Scorpious patted him fondly on the back. "Here," he said, ripping of a chicken leg and passing it to Luke.

Luke ate as Scorpious rattled on. Finally he opened one of the long metal wardrobe ad pulled out a suit made entirely out of different fabrics. Brightly coloured squares had been stitched together. A cape was hung from the back of it. "Here, put this on," Scorpious said.

He helped Luke into the outfit and stood back, nodding his head only slightly. "Perfect," he mumbled. Shoving Luke in front of a mirror, Luke's eyes widened.

How could he describe himself? Stupid? Weird? All of that and more. He tried to hide a scowl, after all this man was trying to help him. And at least people would think that he was innocent. But he was innocent, only in these Games to try win his father's affections. And had it worked? He didn't even have that answer. The thoughts rushed through his head and he had the sudden urge to cry. Screwing up his eyes, he quickly wiped away what tears he had created.

Scorpious gave him a small smile and taking him by the shoulder, he let him through to another room where Belle, his Capitol partner, stood. She wore a similar outfit to Luke's. Her's, however, was a dress instead of a suit. Patches of vibrant material stitched together. A red ribbon had been tied in her hair and when she spotted Luke, she giggled.

Over in the corner, Scorpious talked with the other stylist, pointing to parts of the dress from afar. "Hey," Belle said as she approached, "You look great!"

"Do I? I thought I might have looked foolish?" he admitted, looking down at the suit. He tugged on the blue and orange collar.

"No, you look sweet. Are you nervous?" she asked, giggling again.

"Yeah, I suppose. I hope my father's watching," he said, looking away as she smoothed out her dress. She seemed to think for a moment and opening her mouth, her voice stopped as Scorpious almost glided over.

"You two look marvellous. Sweet and innocent, that's what people like," he said, inspecting the two of them. The other stylist nodded.

"Is Anomaly in the same outfit?" he asked. He hadn't seen much of Anomaly. She kept to herself which Luke didn't mind too much. He found their conversations awkward and in that time Luke had found out that Anomaly couldn't read or write, everything had to be said to her. Luke also found her weird, not trustable.

Scorpious shook his head ruefully, "No, not quite Luke. Anomaly is wearing something else."

There was a sharp knock at the door and the other stylist went to open it. Passion, the escort for District 8, stood there. Anomaly and Quill were behind them, faces blank. Quill seemed to be as weird as Anomaly. She had told Luke that she believed in the paranormal, which freaked him out to no end, and she had a warped view of the world. Scrunching up his eyes, he looked at their clothes. Anomaly wore a white dress, going down to her kneecaps. Sown into the dress in black were words in a fancy font. He drew closer and found that wrote on the dress were the names of fabrics. Quill wore something similar but her dress was black with corresponding white words.

Before Passion could talk, there was a call from the back of the group, "Come on kiddies, we've got a show to go to."

Stark, one of the mentors, was calling to them. Trust him to be smug on a day like this.

* * *

**Lissa Dragomir, District 2**

Lissa took a glance around the chariots. Most of the tributes were here and they were waiting for the last few to dribble in. Sabrina stood next to her, both of them in soldiers uniforms, glittering badges on their breast pockets. Vitus, her District partner, wasn't here yet. Narrowing her eyes, she wondered how long he would be; it was very unusual for Vitus to be late to something like this.

"Looking at the competition?" Sabrina asked haughtily, leaning against the crimson chariot.

Lissa nodded, her eyes flitting between them all. Her eyes went over to where District 1 stood near two gleaming silver and gray chariots. The girl, Anastasia was talking with her Capitol girl, Genevieve. Both wore silver dresses with phoenixes sown perfectly into the dress. Very fitting as Anastasia's last name was phoenix. Although Anastasia looked nice, perfect like District 1 girls always did, there was a hint of intelligence underneath the glamour. Lissa could tell that she would be a good Career.

As for the male in District 1. He looked like every other Career. He wore silver plate armour to show off his District. He would be easy to manipulate and easy to keep under control. Another excellent display of brawn without brains. His Capitol partner, Valentine, however might be a bit harder for Lissa to control. She looked like she did the plans for the two of them.

Her eyes dragged over the other Career District, District 4. Her eyes went to the female, Alex who was stood laughing with Nero. She seemed smart, athletic. She looked like she could handle herself. She would be perfect for the Careers. And as for Nero. Well, it didn't hurt to have a bit of handsomeness in the Career pack. Flashing green eyes and a good body. He'd be useful.

As for her male counterpart, he stood aloft, silent and intimidating. His face was brooding, watchful, alert for dangers. She hadn't seen him open his mouth since he'd come down. He would be tough but powerful. He would be good for the pack. Briar also stood close but not a word passed between them.

That was all for the Career District. Then she'd have to start looking for the non-Careers. The boy from 6, Dust, might come in handy. He looked like he could deal with pressure and he had a strong build of a Career. He was quite handsome as well; always a bonus. Then there was the boy from 10, Merkie. He was a threat if they couldn't use him. It wasn't that he looked or acted like a Career, it was just the determination and strength that he had hit the Peacekeeper with during his reaping.

Then there was her District partner, Vitus and his manservant-slash-partner Adamantine who would put themselves heads of the Career pack. She knew he thought he was in charge but he wouldn't get away with it. In the end, she would be leader and she would make people fear her. Just as the thought crossed her mind, Vitus stomped through the tributes, his head held high.

"Look who it is," Sabrina hissed under her breath.

She nodded, "Took you long enough," she called to them. Vitus grunted, swinging his head towards them. Both wore soldier's uniform but while theirs looked modern, Vitus and Adamantine looked like gladiators from the olden times. He altered his large, square shield and took a long look at her.

"You look nice," he commended with a hint of a smile. She narrowed her eyes. Was he mocking her or not?

The horn was blown and a large sound echoed around the chariot room. Sabrina hopped onto the chariot and Lissa followed, glaring at Vitus. The chariots had an open top and as it began to move, she felt the air brushing against her skin. She may have looked masculine in her outfit but she glowed arrogance and power.

Power. That's what she craved; and she was going to get it, no matter what it took. The room was left behind and they entered onto a long walkway, the chariots bumping along it. They came in in twos, both District chariots alongside each other. She could hear the crowd hollering out names and she listened carefully, trying to find hers. Looking up, she met a couple of Capitol citizens eyes and she saluted, clear and precise. They cheered, more and more joining in their call. The tan horse in front of her galloped slowly, giving her time to drink the atmosphere in.

At last they slowed and made a large circle, the President looked down at them. He stood on a podium high over everyone. At the bottom of the podium was a plaque and as the horse settled down, she managed to read the inscription.

_This plaque commemorates President Snow's great victory over the Nightlock Rebellion and the continuation of the Hunger Games. _

_The preserved blood on this plaque is the real blood from one Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark and this shall remain here for the rest of time. _

Lissa smiled. This was what she wanted. She wanted to be feared. To be respected. To have a plaque in her name for great victories and triumphs she had achieved. As the President spoke, she concentrated on his tone and the honour that he had. Her eyes flashed along the audience as she placed a hand firmly on her heart, nodding slightly. She respected the Capitol people. She would fight for them with her every breath. Filled with patriotism, she lifted her head and smirked. Sabrina followed suit, giving Lissa a sharp smile that was filled with promises of victory.

At long last (and to her disappointment) it ended and the chariots made their way back to the hall where they were originally. She watched the crowd carefully, smiling and saluting.

"Having fun, are we?" she heard Vitus's voice cut across the noise.

Giving him a sour glance she said, "Yes, actually, I am."

"Well, don't get too comfy, it's training tomorrow and that means that _I_ have to get the Career pack together. Unfortunately, _I_ think that you would fit in and _I'm_ guessing you're joining," he said, pushing his shoulders out slightly.

"Of course," she said, "Otherwise you might make the wrong choices."

He scowled as they stopped and she hopped out the chariot. Sabrina followed as Vitus got out of his. He opened his mouth to retort as he got closer and smirking, she put a hand over his mouth. "Your only 16, Vitus, you need someone else to keep things in tow," and with that she left, strutting towards their escort, the eccentric General Becquerel.

Out of the two of them, she would get the last laugh. She would win.


	17. Wolf People with Pride

**Here is the next day of training. I will be doing all three training days in separate chapters and then a separate chapter for the private training sessions. It was actually really fun to write this chapter and much longer than I expected. Oh well, everyone likes long chapters.**

**Thanks for all the reviews and keep them coming. As always, enjoy :)**

* * *

**Vitus Cassian, District 2.**

Vitus's eyes flickered open. He stared up at the white wall with a whole day ahead of him. His eyes narrowed, a small yawn escaping his lips. He turned over onto his side, staring at the little ticking clock in the dim morning light. He groaned, pushing on hand out and clicking on the internal light.

_5:30am, _it read, illuminated by a little green light. He bit into his bottom lip, his eyes still droopy. Forcing them back open, he pushed himself into a sitting position, sprawling his legs out. Across the way, he spotted Adamantine's bed, a figure in it, snoring heavily. Wiping his eyes, he whispered, "Pssst."

There was no answer, just a slight movement from Adamantine. Suppressing a sigh, he hissed again, "Pssst."

There was still no answer. Sighing this time, he carefully pushed himself of his bed. The floorboards made a slight creek as he touched the floor, making him wince. For a few moments he was silent then, slowly, he put one foot in front of the other. The floorboards only made a small creek this time and taking it steadily, he reached Adamantine, snuggled down between the covers. He felt on edge for some reason like a mouse trying to sneak away from a cat with a piece of cheese.

"Adamantine, pssst, wake up," Vitus said, whispering in his ear. There was no answer. Gritting his teeth, Vitus shook his shoulder, rousing him from slumber.

His eyes narrowed as Adamantine awoke, one heavily muscled hand shooting towards his throat. Vitus quickly parried, the hand grabbing his wrist instead. Pain shot through him, the squeezing nearly unbearable. For a few moments, Adamantine looked like he was in a dreamlike state but as the light entered his eyes, realisation glinted in the corners. His grip immediately slackened.

"Sorry boss, did I hurt you?" he asked gruffly, taking his huge muscled arm away.

Great scaled dragons had been tattooed onto his arms in a black colour, easily visible on his buffed arms. Vitus was muscled but it was nothing compared to Adamantine. He was like a beast, layer upon layer of muscles and flesh. Vitus had been surprised when he found out that like him, Adamantine was only 16 years of age. The guy looked older, way older.

"No, I'm okay," Vitus answered back, a blank expression crossing his face. That was one thing Vitus hated about Adamantine. The guy was so paranoid that he would try to kill anyone that awoke him. It had happened every time Vitus had waked him up. The first time, Vitus had nearly been strangled, the hand cutting off his oxygen supply. It hadn't been pretty. But, as Adamantine had said, _you can never be too careful_. Still, Vitus thought that was a little over the top.

He walked back to his own bed, more at ease now, the adrenaline waking him up fully. Perching on the end, he smirked. "Guess what day it is?"

Adamantine smiled back, his smile evil. It was enough to send shivers through anyone. Vitus had just managed to get over it. "Training," he responded. Adamantine wasn't a man of words.

Vitus nodded. "Today we strike fear into our enemies. And get us a few allies in the process."

"Yes, scaring people is fun," Adamantine agreed, nodding. "So, what is plan?"

Leaning back slightly, he leaned his elbows on the bed. "District 1, District 4, boy from 10 that hit the Peacekeepers. Perhaps the boy from 3; he looks handy."

"And Lissa?" Adamantine asked.

Vitus immediately grimaced, his lips parting in a sneer. "Yes, Lissa as well."

"Why? Why do you want to take her on? I don't understand," he said, keeping all his sentences brief.

"We have too, she's a good fighter. And if we don't, she'll be a threat," he said, scowling. Lissa seemed to follow him wherever he went. He was constantly watchful of her, waiting for her to pounce.

"She is threat?" he asked, cocking Vitus an eyebrow.

"Yes, she's a threat. Currently, she thinks that we don't know about her little take over schemes but we do. She underestimates us. She thinks we're stupid. We have to keep our enemies close, that way I can make sure that she isn't trouble for us," he said, glaring at the wall. A wall separated her from him. And they were soundproof. The two had done a little study of their own to check that out.

"Oh, ok. Sometime it seem that you are…," Adamantine said, screwing up his eyes as he thought for the right word. Vitus was glad that he had been given the mix of brawn without brains for his Capitol partner. It made it easy for Vitus to be in charge, to make sure that everything went to plan. And Adamantine was loyal, something he was glad for. People were scared of Adamantine, and for some reason, Adamantine was fearful but respectful of him. It all worked out nicely. Finally he seemed to find the right word and said, "Infatuated. You are infatuated with her."

Vitus's mouth dropped as he spluttered, "What? No, god no! You're trying to say that I _like her in a you know what way. _No! Definitely not."

Adamantine shrugged, frowning as he groped for the right words, "You act…obsessed…at times."

Vitus shook his head ruthlessly, "No. I'm not obsessed, I just want to make sure that she doesn't show me up _or_ kill me. That would be bad. And besides, I don't know where you're getting these big words from today, quite remarkable for you."

Adamantine simply shrugged, "I don't know."

Under his breath he mumbled, "Let's keep it that way." He then got back up, stretching once and smiling. Grabbing a shower and changing clothes, he finally clicked his fingers. The morning routine was over.

"Let's go down for breakfast," he said, opening the door and waltzing out. He could hear Adamantine behind him as they entered the plush lounge. The walls were made of a red silk, the floor a crimson carpet and the view magnificent, even though he didn't care less about how pretty things looked. An Avox stood in charge and smirking, he pushed past him to a breakfast table. The food was set out, steaming and inviting.

As he grabbed some pancakes drizzled with chocolate, the sun rose higher in the sky. By the time they had both planned and ate, their escort stomped into the room. Vitus watched as he went by, wearing a proud generals outfit.

"Vitus. Adamantine," he greeted in his booming voice. After hours of calm, quiet conversation it was a nasty change.

Suppressing a grimace, he replied "Greetings, sir."

Lissa swaggered down the stairs followed by Sabrina close behind. "Morning sir," she also greeted, looking down fondly at General Becquerel. Vitus grimaced this time, watching as she strutted towards him, her jet black hair swinging behind her.

"Sit down," General Becquerel said, motioning next to Vitus.

He rolled his eyes, _great. _Clapping his hands, in a booming voice he said, "Right, today is all about the Career Pack, you need to gather people up and make others fear you. This is District 2 you're representing, not District 9. Understand?"

"Yes sir," all four of them yelled back.

"Why isn't Quintus telling us this? Or Caecilius?" Sabrina asked, noticing their missing mentors.

"Quintus is asleep as usual; Caecilius on the other hand said he was getting himself acquainted with the Capitol women, not that that's important," General Becquerel yelled back. "Now, we haven't got time to chatter anymore, you're late as it is, so go!"

Vitus looked to the clock and saw that they were indeed late. Following their mentor, the four teenagers crammed themselves into the elevator and left Becquerel back on their floor. The silence was palpable as the elevator slowly ascended. Vitus kept the sneer on his face as they rode further downwards. Four days, they had four days until they were in the arena fighting to the death. Finally, taking a glance at Lissa, he said, "District 1 or 4?"

"What?" she said immediately, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Do you want to try recruit District 1 or 4?"

"Oh, I get a choice. Surprising. So you've seen that you need me in the pack?"

"Just pick a District."

"Do I sense a trickle of anger in that sentence?"

"Pick. A. District."

"I'll take 4; I'd rather not talk to the mad girl from 1."

"Good, that's sorted," he said, sighing deeply. The elevator stopped and the doors slipped open. Beyond it, the tributes were visibly stood in a circle, eyeing each other up. Pushing his chest out, he smirked, _here goes nothing._

* * *

**Zane Asher, District 1.**

District 2 was the last to arrive, all four of them looking exceptionally intimidating. _Fashionably late, _some people called it but to him, it was a little sloppy. Not that it bothered him too much, he wanted in with these people. He was from a Career District and proud so he needed to get in.

His eyes drifted from them to his District partner, Anastasia. He caught her attention and raised an eyebrow. Her eyes skirted over them and at last, she gave a small shrug. He never quite knew what his District partner was thinking. She was a strange one, mysterious. Despite what his Capitol partner, Valentine, had said about not talking to her as she was weird, Zane quite liked her. She reminded him of his brother, Hunter. Both in their own little worlds.

A woman in her 40s read f a list of stations as Zane glanced around. Valentine put a firm hand on his shoulder, smirking. She gave him a small wink. He knew she was leading him on but frankly, he couldn't help but follow. His eyes finally moved away from her, trying to gather himself up, and looked around the stations. Then he found it, a broadsword. His favourite weapon. Favoured by his family for generations.

The woman then nodded, letting them go to where they wanted. Without a second thought, he ran to the station, nearly tripping up in the process. Now that would have been embarrassing. Smiling, he took the weapon up in his hands, drifting a finger along the edge. The broadsword could do some lethal damage if used properly. He swung it a few times, getting a feel for the heavy Capitol metal. Spinning it a few times afterwards, he heard a sarcastic clapping behind him.

"What?" Zane asked, turning to Valentine.

"You're really going to be able to hit someone spinning it around in your hands like that," she drawled, giving him a harsh look.

Flaring his nostrils slightly, he pivoted on his heels, sprung forward and struck the practice dummy. The head hit the floor as sand spilt from the bag. He aimed at another, smashing it into the arms. "This is too easy, they aren't moving targets," he said to Valentine who was watching, unimpressed.

Overhearing him, a training attendant wandered over. "You need help?" he asked, some treacle dribbling down his chin from the feast the Peacekeepers were eating. Zane nodded and the training attendant picked up a sword. It was slightly shorter than his and curved.

Gripping his broadsword tightly, the two lunged at each other. As a clash of metal sounded around the Training Centre, Zane quickly paced backwards and then lunged forward, avoiding the training attendants swing and pouncing, slicing madly at him. Dodging a few more blows, he pushed the sword forward and sliced at the attendant. The sword gripped the man's shoulder making him screech in pain. Pulling it out, he smashed the hilt into the attendant's chest, knocking him onto the floor. Spinning the sword once in his hand, he then placed the tip on the Capitol attendant's throat.

Silence rained upon the training centre, no one daring to speak. The fight must have happened in the space of a few seconds and in that time, everyone was watching. The Peacekeepers were watching as well; Zane could see them from their stands, their faces unreadable. Finally, a single clapping sound rang around the room. He turned, expecting to see Valentine, but instead it was the boy from 2, his face holding a classic Career smirk.

He waltzed over, picking up a mace as he walked. "Nice going there," he said, gazing down at the Capitol attendant. And that's when Zane saw how scared the Capitol man was, his nails digging into the ground as he looked up and two bloodthirsty teens with large smirks on their faces.

"It was nothing," Zane said, trying to keep it cool. Behind the tribute from 2 and his partner, Valentine gave a subtle nod.

"Funnily enough we're looking for tributes to join our Career pack and you'd be just the sort, if you would?" he said, "Names Vitus, by the way, this here is Adamantine." Adamantine flexed his muscles.

He could see Valentine behind him mouth, _keep calm and accept. _"Yeah, I'm up for that, Zane, that's Valentine," Zane answered, lifting the sword from the man's throat. He got up; scrabbling to his feet and casting them fear filled glances. He then shuffled towards the Peacekeepers.

"Good," he said simply, his eyes drifting over the other tributes. Many looked away, only a few holding his gaze. Finally, after a few tension fuelled moments, the head Peacekeeper coughed and everyone got back on with what they were doing.

"Looks like Grumio Pistorius knows what he's doing," Vitus then said before his eyes hardened, "What's your District partner like?"

Before he could answer, Valentine interjected him, "You don't want her, she's mad as a hatter."

"She's not that bad. She's cool and besides she's intelligent," he said, ruffling his oddly coloured white hair.

Valentine snorted as Vitus gave him a confused look, "Is she worth getting in the Careers or not?"

"Yes," he said, trying to avoid Valentine's gaze. It didn't work. She shot him a dark look.

"Come on then, we haven't got all day," Vitus said gruffly, Adamantine smiling behind him. It wasn't hard to find Anastasia with her petite body, glossy brown hair and icy green eyes. She held a rifle in her hands which looked out of place on such a small girl. They strutted over, weapons still in hand.

"They have a shooting range?" Vitus asked, slightly wide eyed.

"If you had been here on time, you would have known that Vitus," Anastasia said, not even looking at them. Zane moved slightly so he could see her face. Her tongue stuck out of her mouth slightly as she aimed, lining up her target. Vitus shot Zane a confused look. Finally, sighing, she pulled the trigger. The force of the rifle jolted her back as the bullet sprung from the gun. The bullet zoomed forwards and embedded itself into the target.

"Nice shot," Vitus said; the bullet only being a little off the bullseye.

"Could have done better, and besides, it would be more fun if they had wild panthers to shoot at," she said back, her eyes drifting around the target. Her voice was aloft, mysterious.

"We're looking for people like you," Vitus said, ignoring the dark look that Valentine was giving her.

Anastasia finally turned to look at them all, an inquisitive expression across her pixie like features. She giggled, hoisting the rifle onto her shoulder. "Genevieve, what do you think?" she called across to where a slim girl was starting a fire. Her eyes drifted over them, dreamlike, far away, and finally, she nodded. Genevieve looked lazily at them, her eyelids almost closed over her eyes. Her long blonde hair was tied in a braid, flowing down her back. She looked like a fairy-tale princess.

"Yes, they would be interesting allies," Genevieve said, her voice silky. She lightly brushed a glimmer of hair from her eyes and smiled.

"Lost in her own little world," Valentine mumbled, rolling her eyes. Anastasia seemed to have gone onto firing bullets at the lights, making them spark and buzz. Vitus was watching, an unexpected intrigued expression lighting up his face.

Adamantine hit him on the shoulder and his face hardened. "Right you lot, it's nearly lunch, meaning that we need to pull some tables together. Get acquainted," he laughed as the Peacekeepers called them through to another room.

The six of them kept together, a mumble of voices as they walked through the door into a cafeteria. Vitus's District partner walked after him, followed by his own Capitol partner. With a group effort, they pushed some tables together so they could sit around. Zane marvelled at how quickly the group could work so well when they had all literally met. He grabbed some delicious smelling food and slid into a chair, his face lighting up. He was with the Careers. He was going to be fine. He could come home with money in his back pocket.

"How'd you do Lissa?" Vitus called over. Zane ignored their conversation, Vitus would sort everything out.

A girl slid into the chair next to Zane. Her Capitol partner sat on her other side, vibrant green eyes lit up with amusement.

"Come on Alex, we all know that I'm the best with a trident," the Capitol teen said. She gave him a light punch as Zane read the number on her shoulder, _4._

She then laughed, "Nero, you've got a lot to learn. It's a good thing your family told you how to use a spear."

"It's family tradition," he said, shrugging. Like the girl, Alex, he wore an identical metal collar. Looking at it gave Zane the chills, just like his own did. But he would never admit it. District 1 tributes were proud and he had to uphold that.

Nero's eyes then spotted Zane, "Hello. You okay?"

"Yeah, thanks. So you with the Careers?" Zane asked.

"Yup, her choice," Nero answered, jerking a thumb at Alex. She scowled, pushing him gently. The two seemed fond of each other. Happy. Nero's tone was light, warm and Zane's impulse to like him. Alex seemed friendly as well, even though she held the grace of a Career. It looked like being a Career was going to be more fun than he expected.

* * *

**Merkie Sakid, District 10.**

Merkie scowled at the Careers table. The most pig headed people of all. Merkie had no doubt that someone on that table would win. Not that he cared. Everyone died eventually. However, he did hope that he would survive these Games. Maybe go home and see his friends. And his family. _That would be nice_, he thought.

"What's up?" Artemis said, her hands moving slightly. Merkie could tell that she itched to get her hands on a bow again.

"I just…," he drifted off again. His mind going to better thoughts of a man riding a unicycle wearing a golden helmet.

"Merkie," Artemis said, a little more firmly this time.

Shaking his head, he frowned. "The wolf people," he said.

She frowned for a few moments and then nodded. "Oh them, yeah they could be a problem. They could kill us, well, anyone could kill us but they're more likely to," Artemis said, nodding.

He looked over at the Careers, shaking his head. The girl from 2 looked back at him. He frowned even further, shoving a piece of sweet and sour chicken into his mouth. He missed, hitting his cheek instead. Artemis gave out a snort of laughter. He aimed again. This time the chicken entered his mouth and he started to chew, ignoring the sauce stain on his cheek.

"What do you want to do after lunch?" Artemis asked.

"Spelling."

"Ok, but what else?"

"Weightlifting."

Artemis nodded, "Yeah we'll do that. As long as we go back to the archery training later, we can do what you want."

He nodded, sticking his tongue out at the District 2 girl before turning away. "Do you know who that is?" he asked.

"Who?"

"Two girl," Merkie answered.

She nodded, "Lissa Dragomir with Capitol partner Sabrina Greef."

He nodded, picking up a piece of chicken with his fingers and smiling. "How did you bow and arrow?" he asked, squeezing the chicken between his fingers. Artemis didn't even look confused or disgusted. Merkie had decided that Artemis was a good person. She hadn't judged him like most people. In fact she seemed to even embrace who he was.

"Oh, I did live with my Aunty and Uncle. They owned a couple of fields in which people would pay them to play archery and shooting. My Aunty showed me how to use a bow and arrow and I've been doing it ever since."

"What about your ancestors?" Merkie asked, sticking his tongue out and trying to touch his nose, ignoring the chicken still in the palm of his hand.

"My parents? We never saw eye to eye, so to speak," she said, pulling a comically disgusted face. He laughed, slipping his tongue back into his mouth as he finally gave her a bemused smile.

It was quickly replaced by a mischievous one as he gazed down at his hands. "Fight!" he said. Immediately, Artemis knew what he was going to do. Nodding, she picked up a handful of mashed potatoes.

"Where we throwing partner?" she asked, using a stupid accent.

"Wolf people," he responded and as they both smiled, they threw their food at the Careers. There was a shout as they both hit home. Grabbing their plates, they ducked under the table, picking up more with their fingers. Pelting them, the Careers started to retaliate, shooting their own food back. Laughing, the two continued, doused in gravy and sticky vegetables. Merkie looked right to see the boy from 6 throwing a turkey leg at Zane.

Merkie saw more join in, a roar of noise from all directions. Food flew backwards and forwards from all directions, the younger tributes joining now in. Peacekeepers stood in shock, not quite sure what to do, watching it evolve. A figure landed next to him, an amused smile upon his face. Another figure landed next to Artemis, his face holding a sceptical look.

The one next to him exclaimed, "Who doesn't like a food fight." He shot up for a second, a roast potato in hand and threw it. As he dropped down, he narrowly avoid an orange to the face. His face had scars on it like a wolf had just swiped its claws down his face. However his features were friendly, relaxed.

The figure next to Artemis shook his head, "We should be planning not fooling around."

"Cheer up, it's not often that people fight like this," the first one said, his gray eyes lit up in childlike excitement.

The second figure failed to suppress a smile this time and said, "Fine, this is fun."

"You just wish you were snogging your girlfriend, Fleet, or whatever her name is."

"She's not my girlfriend and we were _not_ snogging."

"Bullshit. You were making out in the Justice Building. I saw it with my own eyes. They started bleeding because of it."

"Whatever," the second figure then turned to Merkie, "You start this?"

Merkie nodded.

"Good plan. The Peacekeepers will stop us in a minute, I can tell. Better have some fun until they do. I'm Dust," the second figure said. "The man with the scars he won't talk about is Aeron."

The first figure smirked, "That's me."

Artemis told them their names as they continued to throw piles of food. Dust tossed an apple in his hands and aiming, he threw it straight into the face of Vitus.

A siren suddenly sounded and they all stopped, covering their hands with their ears. The noise penetrated them, filling Merkie's brain with a ringing feeling. He gritted his teeth, cowering down. That noise, it was horrible. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the others doing the same. Aeron was giving out a pain filled cry as Peacekeepers filed in the room. Two hands pulled Merkie onto his feet as the siren died down.

He came face to face with an un-amused Peacekeeper. More Peacekeepers grabbed the others, pulling them to their feet. Artemis hid a laugh with her hands while both Dust and Aeron didn't bother to hide their amusement as they broke down into fits of laughter. Merkie couldn't help but join in. Overhead they heard the head peacekeeper, Grumio Pistorius, yelling something about how they must never do this again or face the consequences. Merkie didn't care; it had been fun.

The Peacekeepers ushered the tributes out the cafeteria and back into the training room. The four of them moved to one side of the room, each in hysterical laughter.

"I can't breathe," Dust said, trying to regain himself.

Footsteps approached them and they all turned towards the footsteps. The Careers were there in full force, in front was Vitus, a large bruise forming on his head from where Dust's apple landed.

"Well, if it isn't the food fight starter and co," he sneered, obviously not happy.

"Yes, that's us," Artemis answered tartly, looking up at him.

"You've got two choices. We 'admire' what you four have done today and so we are offering you all a place in the Career pack. You choose now whether you want to join," he then said.

He turned to Artemis. Should he join them? Surely it was better than dying? But they were the wolf people; they couldn't be trusted, could they? Would he become a wolf person? Did he want to be a wolf person?

Well, wolves did get a lovely warm pelt. Finally he said, "Yeah."

Artemis nodded though he could see her looking at him, confused. Not sure. Well, he certainly wasn't sure.

"And you District 6?"

Merkie turned to Dust. He saw a quick conversation in the form of eye movements and facial expressions go between Aeron and Dust. Turning to Vitus, he nodded.

"Good, well, seeming someone couldn't get hold of the District 4 male, this will have to do. Let's go Careers; we've got some work to do," Vitus then said, clasping his hands together with a smirk.

Merkie looked at Artemis and smiled. "Don't worry, now that we're wolf people we'll get warm pelts and sharp claws. I hope my pelt is brown."


	18. An Alliance for Little Kids

**Okay guys, this is updated a day earlier as I'm busy during Friday and the weekend. I enjoyed writing this chapter so let me know what you think via Review. **

**Thanks to everyone who has reviewed and here is the second day of training. :)**

* * *

**Alia Louise Bennet, District 6.**

Dawn broke over the Capitol as Alia stared out the window, lost in her own thoughts. She sat cross legged, facing the large window which took up the whole wall. Sighing, she turned a shiny red apple over in her hands. Another sleepless night dragging into another horrible day where she would watch the other tributes from afar, wishing that she could have one last enjoyable day. But today was worse; she watched the ticking clock as the hands had pointed to midnight and with that, her birthday.

It would have been a great day at home with Bethany and her parents. Watching her crush go by hoping that she could spot him and maybe even talk to him. She remembered crying on reaping day when she had upset him, she had seen the look on his face but all of that was just water under the bridge. She had learnt that things like that didn't matter anymore. Putting her hands to her face, she felt tears slip out her eyes and hastened to wipe them away. A small whimper escaped from her mouth. Why was the world so cruel?

A hand touched her shoulders, lightly. She didn't turn, brushing the hand off instead. "Go back to bed, I'm fine," she said, trying to keep herself together. It didn't work and her voice cracked. Screwing up her eyes, she tried to stop the flow of tears from coming, blinking to make them disappear.

"You don't want to talk then," the voice responded. He was here. What was he doing up so early?

She turned to see Aeron gazing down at her, a small smile on his face. "Oh, I thought it might have been Wade or Swan or Cornell," she said, looking away from him.

"You'd be better off if it was, I don't know how to do feeling talks with people," he said as he sat, placing his palms out behind him and leaning back.

She gave out a half laugh, half snort. "It's ok. I just don't think today will be any good. Another training day, you know?" she said, turning back to look out over the Capitol. How could a city so marvellous be so terrifying?

"Yeah," he said, "But you'll be alright."

"That's easy for you to say, you've got the Careers. And Dust is a good man to fight alongside, I'm sure you'll be fine," she said, a note of bitterness in her tone.

"It wasn't my first choice, the Careers, but you have to take hold of lifelines. If I could, I would have made an alliance with you and Ophelia," he said, then he bit into his bottom lip, looking towards the corridor where the bedroom doors were.

"You like her, Ophelia, I mean," she said.

He gave out a sigh, "We have history, not the romantic kind though. She…she helped me and ever since I've been like a brother to her. Even though I'm with the Careers, I'll do all I can to help her and with that, you."

"She has you round her little finger and she knows it," she said, raising an eyebrow at him. She cracked a smile as he frowned slightly, rolling his eyes.

"And doesn't she know it," he said, gathering himself up and standing, "But what can I say, she's helped me. I owe her. And, yesterday, Ophelia told me that it was your birthday today. So for what it's worth, Happy Birthday."

With that he left, walking towards the corridor. She didn't know what happened between Ophelia and him. He never spoke of what actually happened, dodging the question and always moving the subject on. All she had gathered is that it had something to do with his scars. And now she had another piece of the puzzle, Ophelia. She smiled, wiping her face with her dressing gown sleeve.

A little later she heard Dust descended the steps, followed by Aeron. Swan, one of their mentors, also appeared, passing Alia a mug of coffee. She felt tired, the rush of emotions storming her. Looking down at the murky liquid, she tasted some, overhearing someone mention that it was high in caffeine. Or how Cornell had put it, 'wake up juice.' She watched as Dust went over his plan to Aeron, talking in a fast pace voice which, somehow, Aeron seemed to understand.

A figure fell into the chair next to her. A girl, about the same size as her, with cream coloured skin and a dazzling smile. Her hair, black with frizzy green tips shone in the light. Her nails were sharpened as usual, forming into a point. Alia reckoned she looked like a cat, her build, nails and her sneakiness seemed to give off that impression. "Happy Birthday," Ophelia said, pulling Alia into a hug. Alia couldn't help but smile.

"Yeah, Happy Birthday," Dust said, giving her a quick nod before turning back to Aeron. Aeron gave the two of them quick wink.

Swan echoed the statement as Ophelia pulled a small package from her jacket. Whatever it was, it was wrapped in dark green tissue paper. Ophelia's eyes darted to Swan and satisfied that she wasn't looking, she shoved the package into Alia's hands. "What's this?" Alia asked.

"It's for you, Birthday present. I went for a little late night shopping last night. It's from all of us, me, Dust and Aeron," she said, as the two boys peered over, trying not to draw suspicion. She gave them a small nod, almost unrecognizable, and a quick smile.

Opening it up, she found that it was a pocket watch, made of brass and polished magnificently. On the front was a '6' engraved into the thick metal along with a small train along the bottom. On the back you could see the cogs and gears through some glass, all in perfect order. She opened it up, clicking the little button on the top. On the inside was the watch, beautifully made and on the left was a picture of the four of them just after the Chariot Ride. Underneath the picture was wrote, 'District 6. Always United.'

She closed it up, holding it in her palms. Emotions overwhelmed her as she looked down at it. "You did this all for me?" she asked, trying not to break down in tears.

Ophelia nodded, giving quick thumbs up to the guys. She smiled, gazing at the pocket watch with so much joy. This was more than what other people had ever done for her before. Grabbing Ophelia, she pulled her into a hug. This was going to be a good birthday, she was sure of it.

* * *

**Forrow Mathers, District 9.**

Aurora danced around on the spot, her face lit up in glee. "What do you want to do first?" she asked, searching around the training ground. She whizzed around on the spot, not quite sure what they were doing. He wanted to do something fun, something exciting. The food fight yesterday, in his opinion, had been great fun. Even if they had had to sit through a lecture about it at breakfast, telling them what was appropriate at the lunch table.

He had sat there quietly, fidgeting and covering his little mischievous smile. If that had happened back at home, he and his two friends would have been laughing their heads off. Of course, a lot of the adults here didn't share they're humour. _Boring adults_. "I don't know," he said, sticking his bottom lip out slightly.

"Aw," Aurora said, jumping in the air and landing softly on the ground. Aurora had been quiet when they had first met but that had turned out to be shyness. She was enthusiastic around Forrow now, listening and laughing at his jokes. "Why don't we go see Sterling?"

Forrow nodded, trying to find where he and Jade would be. They saw the two of them, talking over at the javelin area. Forrow was surprised that the big nasty Careers weren't over that area like lice but then again, Sterling had a way of getting rid of people. As they went over, he could hear Jade talking rapidly, almost angrily.

"So I had to volunteer, and then my parents said just before I left, don't forget to get with the Careers. But how am I supposed to do that, they won't even look at me and more importantly they're total douchebags. And then I see all the small children and my heart just goes out to them, y'know?" Jade said, her fists clenched as she spoke to Sterling.

Sterling nodded, "Yeah, you see how I feel. All my siblings are young so I feel the need to protect them."

"We need to do something about it," Jade said.

"Yeah, we need to try and protect them the best we can. I mean, I've tried to protect-," Sterling drifted off, seeing the two of them. "Oh, hey you two."

"Hey," Forrow said, waltzing over. Aurora followed, giving Sterling a sheepish smile. Forrow had tried to get over how intimidating Sterling looked but he still hadn't got fully over it. Seeing Sterling with a javelin firmly in one hand brought it all back.

"What you been up to?" Jade asked, surveying the other tributes before looking back to them, "Talked to anyone?"

Forrow shook his head, "No. I want people to talk to but everyone looks so frightening."

Sterling bent down so that he was the same height as Forrow, "Don't be afraid, little man, plenty of the other tributes here are just afraid as you are and you just need a little courage to make conversation."

Behind of them, Jade clicked her fingers and smiled. As Sterling got back up, she pulled him over and whispered quickly into his ears. Sterling smiled widely, patting her on the back.

"Hey, you two, why don't we work together in the arena," Sterling then said, coming back over to them once he had finished. Forrow gave him a giant grin.

"Really? You mean it? We get to work with you when we're in the arena?" Forrow asked as Aurora did a little jump for joy.

Sterling nodded, his eyes drifting back over the other tributes. "Yes. We're going to try and get a few others together to. Young ones, people that need help," Sterling then said.

Forrow frowned, "Don't you need strong people instead of young people?"

Sterling shook his head, "No. If we can we will but people like you need help and it's not fair for us to extend our offer to you but no one else, is it Farrow?"

"No, I suppose not," Farrow said.

Jade gave him a warm smile, "Why don't you go over and talk to some of the other tributes while we think strategy, ok?"

Forrow nodded, spotting a small child from District 8. He and Aurora wandered over; Forrow giving the boy a sheepish grin. He was only Forrow's size with wavy blonde hair and large, round, brown eyes. He held a slingshot in his hand, looking furious with it. "Hello," Forrow said.

The boy was startled, letting go of the string and sending a small rock flying past the target and into the wall. "You made me miss," the boy said, scowling slightly.

"Relax, Luke," his Capitol partner said, "You'll get it eventually."

He frowned and then sighed, "I know, Belle, but I thought I got it this time."

"Sorry," Forrow apologised, picking up another slingshot. He loaded a rock in it, following how Luke was doing it. Then, letting go off the string, the rock flew and grazed the target. Luke looked at him, a mixture of curiosity and awe.

"I've been trying to hit that target for ages," Luke said, letting go of his rock. He missed a couple of inches off the target.

Forrow shrugged, "Lucky I suppose. In fact, I need to learn how to use a weapon if I'm going to be in the greatest alliance ever!"

Luke's eyes widened, "You're going to be with the Careers?"

Forrow's shoulders sagged but then went firm again, a smile springing to his face, "Nah, they're mean. I mean we're going with Sterling and Jade and some others. It's going to be the best!"

Luke's mouth dropped open in a little 'o' shape. "Can I join?"

Forrow and Aurora exchanged excited glances. "Yeah, of course, it will be great fun!"

Luke smiled, aiming at the target and letting go. The rock swung through the air and hit the target this time, only a little off the bullseye. "This is going to be great!"

* * *

**Milo Anthony Ferrell, District 11.**

Milo had watched as the District 9 girl and her partner went around recruiting a few of the smaller children. When they regrouped, there was the District 9 girl, the District 9 boy, the girl from 5 and the boy from 8. _Admirable_, Milo thought sarcastically, watching them carefully.

He opened the pen knife in his hands, flipping it open and close. He had perfected that art over a few years so that it was almost perfect. He flipped the knife close again and then opened it up fully so he could see the sharp blade. The deadly metal. So beautiful, hand crafted and glittering. His eyes gazed over the target and with a quick hand movement, the knife pierced the dummies head and it fell to the ground with a _thump._

No one saw, no one except his terrified Capitol partner that was watching him. No Careers saw the amazing blow. After all, what Careers wanted a little 13 year old from District 11. He shook his head bitterly and saw the District 9 girl again. Were they stupid, helping little kids in a death game? It made him sick. It was every man for himself and yet so many made alliances hoping that they would last longer than each other. He'd tear them down; he'd tear them all down.

And then he saw it, the girl from 9 was approaching him, along with her disgustingly admirable Capitol partner. "Hey there," she called cheerfully.

He tried to supress the grimace that was forming across his lips. He'd make sure that he killed her. Slash her throat; let her drown in her own blood. His Capitol partner, Loki, quickly looked from him to her, not quite sure what was going to happen. The District 9 girl got even closer and stood near him.

Milo grunted; a question. _What did she want?_

"Hey fella, we're going to help the young ones out and we wondered if you'd like to join our alliance," her partner asked, his face friendly.

Milo pretended he didn't hear, picking a few more knives from the side. "Would you like to join our alliance, little guy?" Jade asked.

Without answering, he dragged his thumb down the knife. Neither of them spoke now, watching him intently. Taking a deep breath in, he stared at another dummy and threw the dagger, piercing its heart, the force knocking it over to the ground. He threw enough, slicing through a rope which was hanging a dummy from the ceiling. It fell, smashing onto the ground. Sand spilt everywhere, flooding the floor around it.

"Do I look like I need help?" Milo said, his eyes narrowing as he pivoted to face them. Neither of them answered. Grabbing one more knife, he pressed his thumb to it. This time to metal bit into his flesh, making it bleed. He saw a thick blob of crimson blood rise out of gash and he gently took the knife away. He watched as more poured out of the thumb and dribbled down his hand and onto his arm. Both watched with utter shock. The pain of the knife, it had been amazing and this, this blood was beautiful. All the things it could do to human life.

He looked to Loki who was watching gobsmacked. But Loki had always given him that look, ever since they had met. He'd even refused to share a room with Milo after the first day. It had been fun; threatening Loki in the middle of the night with a knife he'd got from the dinner table. Loki had screamed. Lucky the walls were soundproof.

The girl backed away, her eyes not quite comprehending what was going on. Her partner followed, his eyes a mixture of disgust and confusion. What he thought little children were like had been smashed. _Not all little angels,_ Milo felt like saying but he restrained himself.

Instead he settled with, "Never call me little guy." The two nodded before quickly retracing their steps, shuffling away from him. Milo didn't need allies. He despised allies. If he could get away with killing Loki he would. But that would mean his own death. The collar felt cold around his neck and he wanted to spit at the Capitol right this minute. Still, he could have some fun with Loki, that was for sure.

"Come on," he said simply, "Let's go and try out the sickles, they seem fun."

Loki nodded quickly, following Milo like a little lost dog. But to him, that's what Loki was, a pet. He'd forced fear into Loki's mind, making sure that he did exactly what Milo said and nothing else. He'd even set down some rules and regulations, all which needed to be followed or be punished.

When they arrived at the station, a figure was already there. He had a limp and shuddered slightly, despite there being no cold winds or rain as they were indoors. The boy's pale green eyes landed on him as Milo picked up a sickle. "Get out of the way, shaky," he said, pushing the kid out the way.

The boy fell to the floor, looking up at him fearfully. "H-h-how could y-y-you d-do that?" the boy asked.

Milo simply smirked, "Because I can."

"L-L-Lysander, help," the boy said, looking over to his Capitol partner. His Capitol partner gave Milo a hostile glance as he helped the boy up.

"If I were you, I would practice over at the rope tying area," Milo then said, pushing a sickle into Loki's hands as he picked one up himself.

"H-h-how d-d-dare you," the boy said, trying to pluck up courage.

"Oh, I'm so s-s-scared," Milo said before laughing harshly. Running at the dummy, he jumped, cut the head off it in mid-air and then landed, performing a forward roll and holding the fake head up in his hands.

"Come on, Octavian, maybe we better start you somewhere easier, hey?" Lysander said, putting a gentle arm around Octavian and taking him off somewhere else. Milo watched with satisfaction as the two of them went towards the fire building area.

He turned and looked at Loki, "These are going to be some fun Games."

Loki gulped as he dropped the dummy head and rubbed his hands together. He would do it. He would take each and every one of these down. He'd make a list tonight, deciding who the first on his list was. Then, one by one, he would get them.


	19. Hiatus

Okay, guys. Sorry I didn't tell you this earlier but I am going on Hiatus until the middle of November as I have some really important upcoming exams which I need to study for. **This is not gone for good, I will be coming back.**

****And when I do come back, we'll have a celebratory chapter. But please bear with me this year, it's an important year for me and so I might be taking a few breaks. Thanks for bearing with me.

~Soundhawk


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